LIBRARY 


UNIVERSITY   OF  CALIFORNIA. 


No. 


Accessions  No. 


TALKS  WITH  ATHENIAN  YOUTHS 


SOCRATES.  A  Translation  of  the  Apology.  Crito,  and 
parts  of  the  Phaedo  of  Plato,  new  edition. 

A  DAY  IN  ATHENS  WITH  SOCRATES.      I  2 mo. 

TALKS  WITH  SOCRATES  ABOUT  LIFE. 

TALKS  WITH  ATHENIAN  YOUTHS.  Five  Selected 
Dialogues  translated  from  Plato. 

Each  12mo,  cloth,  $1.00;  Paper,  60  cents. 


TALKS 


WITH  ATHENIAN  YOUTHS 


TRANSLATIONS 

FROM  THE 

CHARMIDES,  LYSIS,  LACHES,  EUTHYDEMUS, 
AKD    THEAETETUS 

OF 

PLATO 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS 
1891 


Copyright,  1890, 
BY  CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS. 


JOHN  WILSON  AND  SON,  CAMBRIDGE. 


XENOPHON  tells  us  that  Socrates  always  went  where  he 
could  meet  most  people  ;  that  in  workshop  and  market- 
place, at  the  festive  board  or  in  the  palaestra,  he  conversed 
with  all  men  alike,  whatever  their  class  or  profession.  But 
while  no  opportunity  was  neglected  of  mingling  with  and, 
as  it  were,  feeling  the  heart  of  his  fellow-citizens,  the  com- 
panions most  truly  congenial  to  him  were  not  men  of  his 
own  age,  but  a  later  generation,  —  the  youth  of  Athens. 
This,  at  all  events,  is  what  we  gather  from  our  chief  source 
of  information  concerning  Socrates,  the  works  of  Plato.  In 
nearly  all  the  so-called  dramatic  dialogues,  where  not  only 
Socrates  the  thinker  but  Socrates  the  man  is  revealed  to  us, 
it  is  these  charming  youths  who  lend  life  and  animation  to  the 
scene  and  who  inspire  the  master's  noblest  utterances.  And 
indeed  these  fresh  young  minds,  filled  with  eager  questionings 
and  unsatisfied  longings,  may  well  have  called  forth  the  best 
powers  of  one  whose  mission  it  _ was  to  turn  the  eye  of  the 
soul  towards  the  Truth.1  JFor  to  Socrates  education  meant 
not  crowding  the  mind  with  "  knowledge  from  without,"  ..' 
allowing  no  room  for  the  play  of  independent  thought  or  the 
growth  of  individual  character,  but  the  building  up  of  char- 
acter by  the  charm  of  good  words 2  and  by  examples  of  high 
thoughts  and  noble  lives,8  and  the  awakening  to  life  and 
activity  of  that  intuitive  knowledge  of  realities  which,  as  he 
believed,  exists  in  every  human  soul. 

1  Republic,  519  B.          2  Charmides,  157  A.         3  Laches  t  180  C. 


VI  PREFACE. 

Perhaps  nowhere  more  clearly  than  in  the  dialogues  before 
us  do  we  see  the  attitude  of  Socrates  towards  his  younger 
followers,  or  rather  his  fellow-searchers  for  truth,  —  for  as 
such  he  preferred  to  regard  them.  If  a  touch  of  his  accus- 
tomed irony  may  be  discerned  in  a  somewhat  exaggerated 
self-depreciation  and  deference  to  their  opinions,  we  mark 
at  the  same  time  his  encouragement  of  their  efforts,  his  ready 
adaptation  to  their  limited  powers  of  understanding,  and 
above  all  his  steady  determination  that  they  shall  use  their 
own  faculties,  and  always  say  what  they  think.1 

The  application  of  this  apparently  simple  rule  was  fraught 
with  peculiar  difficulties  in  a  period  of  transition  such  as  that 
in  which  the  mission  of  Socrates  was  begun.  Old  schools 
of  philosophy  had  lost  their  power  and  vitality,  while  the  new 
conceptions  destined  to  lay  the  foundations  of  modern  phi- 
losophy were  as  yet  in  process  of  evolution.  Meanwhile  the 
field  temporarily  left  vacant  was  occupied  by  eristics,  or 
masters  "  in  the  art  of  word-fighting."  2  Then  indeed  with 
truth  might  men  be  called  "  slaves  of  their  words." 8  It 
needed  only  that  a  proposition  should  be  boldly  enunciated 
by  some  "  teacher  of  wisdom,"  for  it  to  become  straightway 
an  axiom  ;  and  the  more  unintelligible  was  its  meaning,  appar- 
ently the  more  readily  was  it  adopted.  For  logic,  as  yet  an 
unknown  study,  had  not  taught  men  to  see  through  verbal 
fallacies  and  consider  each  proposition  in  its  exact  meaning, 
not  "  tricked  out  with  empty  words." 4  Failing  to  distinguish 
between  forms  of  thought  and  forms  of  expression,  they 
regarded  the  two  as  identical  and  interchangeable,  while 
their  unfamiliarity  with  abstract  ideas  constantly  led  them  to 
confuse  the  abstract  with  the  concrete. 

1   Tkeaetetus,  171  D.  2  Euthydemus,  272  A. 

3  Tlieaetetus,  173  C.  *  Laches,  196  B. 


PREFACE.  M\\ 

The  urgency  with  which  Socrates  insisted  upon  a  clear-cut 
definition  of  every  term  as  a  necessary  preliminary  to  any 
discussion  marks  a  new  era  in  thought.  The  effort,  however 
unsuccessful,  to  define  any  abstract  idea  or  quality  must  of 
necessity  throw  some  light  upon  its  essential  nature,  even 
when  nothing  is  effected  beyond  eliminating  false  concep- 
tions of  it.  Subjected  to  this  test,  the  stock  sayings  which  had 
formerly  passed  unchallenged  were  proved  unmeaning  and 
worthless,  and  he  who  had  most  loudly  proclaimed  them  was, 
"  as  if  by  a  torpedo  fish/*  torpified  into  silence.1  Nor  is  this 
all.  Not  content  with  having  convicted  him  of  pretending 
to  know  when  he  really  knows  nothing,2  Socrates  follows 
up  his  victim  until  he  has  compelled  him  to  strip  and  try 
himself  against  him  in  argument,8  and  has  finally  extorted 
from  him  an  account  of  how  he  is  "  now  living  and  has  lived 
in  the  past."  4  Nor  is  it  from  ill  will  that  he  thus  deprives 
men  of  the  false  conceptions  endeared  by  long  familiarity,  but 
because  he  is  constrained  by  the  law  of  his  nature  "  never 
to  consent  to  a  lie  or  to  stifle  the  truth."  5 

A  process  which  has  for  its  chief  object  the  clearing  away 
of  old  misconceptions  and  prejudices  by  what  Grote  calls 
the  "  negative  arm  of  philosophy,  without  which  the  positive 
arm  will  but  strike  at  random," 6  is  not  likely  to  commend 
itself  to  those  whose  minds,  deep  set  in  the  grooves  of  custom 
and  tradition,  are  conscious  of  no  defect  in  the  old  loose 
methods  of  thought.  Instances,  to  be  sure,  are  not  wanting 
of  older  men  who,  like  Nicias,  deem  it  no  evil  thing  to  be 
called  to  account  for  whatever  they  have  done  or  are  now 
doing  that  is  not  right ; 7  but  in  the  main  it  is  the  young 

1  Mcno,  So  A.  2  Apology,  23  D. 

3    T/ieaetctus,  169  B.  4  Laches,  187  E. 

5   Theaetetus,  151  D.  6  Grote 's  Plato,  vol.  i.  p.  388. 

7  Laches,  1 88  A. 


viii  PREFACE. 

who,  untrammelled  by  the  bonds  of  pride  or  self-interest, 
and  "  capable  of  progress  in  everything,"  1  willingly  lend 
themselves  to  the  healing  cross-examination,  and  are  finally 
enabled  to  "  bring  out  more  than  was  within  them  "  ;  to 
"  discover  of  themselves  many  noble  truths."  2 

Had  it  been  the  original  intention  of  Plato  to  arrive  at 
any  definite  and  satisfactory  conclusion  in  these  particular 
dialogues,  he  must  certainly  have  acknowledged  his  own 
failure.  The  definition  of  temperance  which  is  attempted 
in  the  Charmides,  that  of  friendship  in  the  Lysis,  and  that  of 
courage  in  the  Laches,  are  finally  confessed  to  be  altogether 
inadequate,  while  the  examination  of  the  practical  value  of 
philosophy  undertaken  in  the  Euthydemus,  and  that  of  the 
true  nature  of  knowledge  in  the  Theaetetus,  are  at  last  aban- 
doned as  hopeless.  "The  lights  which  Plato  throws  upon 
his  subject,"  Jowett  observes,  "  are  indirect  ;  but/'  he  con- 
tinues, "  they  are  not  the  less  real  for  that.  He  has  no  in- 
tention of  proving  a  thesis  by  a  cut-and-dried  argument  ;  nor 
does  he  imagine  that  a  great  philosophical  problem  can  be 
tied  up  within  the  limits  of  a  definition.  If  he  has  analyzed  a 
proposition  or  notion,  even  with  the  severity  of  an  impossible 
logic,  if  half-truths  have  been  compared  by  him  with  other 
half-truths,  if  he  has  cleared  up  or  advanced  popular  ideas  or 
illustrated  a  new  method,  the  aim  of  a  Platonic  dialogue 
has  been  attained."  8 

It  is  nevertheless  undeniable  that  there  is  much  in 
Plato's  writings  which  is  not  only  inconclusive  but  well-nigh 
incomprehensible  to  readers  not  familiar  with  the  state  of 
knowledge  at  that  time.  Our  intellectual  status  is  so  differ- 
ent from  that  of  the  Greek  world  of  the  fourth  century  be- 
fore Christ,  that  questions  then  deemed  worthy  of  careful 


1   Theaetetus,  146  B.  2  /^/^  ^o  TJ. 

3  Jowett's  Introduction  to  Thcaetetus, 


PREFACE.  IX 

elucidation  now  seem  to  us  childish  and  trivial,  while  points 
which  we  should  deem  of  vital  necessity  to  the  discussion 
are  not  once  mentioned,  doubtless  because  they  were  not 
even  perceived.  The  modern  reader,  moreover,  who  is  ac- 
customed to  short  cuts  to  learning  and  demands  that  his 
information  shall  be  presented  in  condensed  form,  will  no 
longer  brook  the  long-winded  investigations,  so  often  ending 
only  in  impotent  conclusions,  which  delighted  the  leisurely 
Athenians  Unlike  modern  writers,  who  discreetly  conceal 
the  process  by  which  opinions  have  been  reached,  our  author 
takes  us,  as  it  were,  into  his  confidence,  proclaiming  openly 
that  his  own  mind  is  not  yet  made  up,  and  that  he,  like  our- 
selves, is  only  groping  after  truth.  Thus  he  not  only  records 
the  tentative  or  contradictory  propositions  of  those  whose 
ideas  he  is  drawing  forth,  but  he  lays  bare  his  own  hesita- 
tions and  uncertainties,  his  own  doubts  and  waverings.  It 
is  as  if  some  poet  should  present  for  our  perusal  the  first 
rough  draft  of  his  manuscript  with  all  its  erasures  and  correc- 
tions. "  There  are  cases,"  says  Grote, "  in  which  two  chemists 
have  carried  on  joint  researches,  with  many  failures  and  dis- 
appointments, perhaps  at  last  without  success.  If  a  record 
were  preserved  of  their  parley  during  the  investigation,  the 
grounds  for  testing  and  rejecting  one  conjecture  and  for 
selecting  what  should  be  tried  after  it,  this  would  be  in  many 
points  a  parallel  to  the  Platonic  process."1  And  yet  it 
should  not  fail  to  be  recognized  that  "the  soul  of  Plato's 
thought  is  present  entire  at  every  point  in  the  body  of  his 
work,  and  it  is  not  safe  to  touch  an  iota  subscript  of  his  text 
without  being  aware  of  this."  2  It  behooves  us,  therefore,  to 
use  extreme  caution  in  affirming  of  any  apparent  inconsis- 
tency that  it  is  radical  or  irreconcilable. 

1  Crete's  Plato,  vol.  i.  p.  240. 

2  Paul  Shorey,  Class.  Rev.,  vol.  iv.  p.  480. 


X  PREFACE. 

Although  certain  parts  of  Plato's  dialogues  may  strike  us 
to-day  as  obscure  or  obsolete,  it  is  impossible  to  read  them 
without  being  impressed  by  the  modernness  of  their  thought. 
We  are  constantly  startled  by  passages  which  bear  as  directly 
upon  questions  of  our  own  day  as  if  they  were  written  by 
one  conversant  with  the  latest  phase  of  nineteenth-century  life. 
The  truth  is  that  we  are  indebted  to  Plato  for  more  than  we 
know.  Like  the  man  who  found  in  Shakspeare  nothing  but 
a  collection  of  quotations,  we  are  constantly  recognizing  in 
him  thoughts  long  familiar  to  ourselves.  "  Out  of  Plato," 
says  Emerson,  "  come  all  the  thoughts  that  are  still  written 
and  debated  among  men  of  thought.  Great  havoc  makes 
he  among  our  originalities.  We  have  reached  the  mountain 
from  which  all  these  drift  boulders  were  detached.  The 
Bible  of  the  learned  for  twenty-two  centuries,  every  brisk 
young  man  who  says  in  succession  fine  things  to  each  reluc- 
tant generation  is  some  reader  of  Plato  translating  into  the 
vernacular,  wittily,  his  good  things."1  Doubtless  the  mas- 
terly realism  with  which  the  personages  of  the  Platonic  drama 
are  portrayed,  the  wonderful  touches  of  that  nature  which 
makes  all  centuries  akin,  contribute  in  large  measure  to  this 
sense  of  modernness  which  blends  and  yet  contrasts  curi- 
ously with  these  pictures  of  old  Greek  life,  with  its  pleasant 
daily  meetings  in  Agora  and  palaestra,  its  limitless  time  for 
social  chat  and  philosophic  discussion,  its  frequent  allusions 
to  contemporaneous  persons  and  events. 

Before  we  turn  to  the  scenes  which  are  to  be  enacted  be- 
fore us,  let  us  make  the  acquaintance  of  the  chief  characters 
about  to  figure  there.  Two  at  least  of  these  are  already 
known  to  readers  familiar  with  the  Apology  or  the  Crito. 
Although  the  parts  assigned  them  here  are  insignificant, 
the  actors  are  at  once  to  be  recognized,  —  Chaerephon  by 

1  Representative  Men. 


PREFACE.  XI 

the  eager  impetuosity  of  his  greeting  to  Socrates  on  his  re- 
turn from  camp,1  Crito  by  the  prudent  fear  lest  his  friend 
commit  an  undignified  act  by  going  to  school  with  boys, 
and  by  the  cautious  wish  to  know  beforehand  exactly  what 
he  is  to  learn  from  the  Sophist  brothers,  Euthydemus  and 
Dionysodorus.2  This  singular  pair  of  claimants  to  universal 
knowledge  need  not  here  be  presented,  as  they  will  best  be 
made  known  to  us  later  through  their  own  words.  Ctesippus, 
the  clever  young  fellow,  "  with  all  the  impetuosity  of  his 
years," 3  is  admirably  adapted  to  enter  the  lists  against  such 
antagonists  as  these.  Stopping  at  no  absurdity,  he  does  his 
best  to  surpass  their  extravagances,  and  more  than  once 
succeeds  in  turning  the  laugh  against  them. 

In  striking  contrast  to  the  two  brothers,  follows,  in  the  next 
dialogue,  the  grave  and  dignified  teacher  of  the  young  Theaete- 
tus,  —  Theodorus  the  geometrician.  Disclaiming  any  knowl- 
edge outside  of  his  own  special  study,  he  is  yet  sufficiently 
acquainted  with  the  views  of  the  Heracliteans  to  be  stirred  to 
wrath  at  the  bare  mention  of  the  loose  thinkers  whom  his 
exact  soul  abhors,  and  whom  he  characterizes  as  "  admitting 
nothing  fixed,  whether  in  argument  or  in  their  own  souls."4 
The  cautious  conservatism  with  which  he  avoids  taking  any 
active  part  in  the  discussion  —  a  caution  which  the  other 
two  collocutors  lose  no  opportunity  to  override  —  is  as  char- 
acteristic a  trait  of  Theodorus  as  is,  on  the  part  of  Socrates, 
the  eager  proffer  of  himself  "  to  be  killed  and  boiled,"  if 
need  be,  provided  only  he  be  turned  out  a  good  man.5 

The  character  of  Critias,  in  the  Charmides,  although  it 
gives  no  premonition  of  his  subsequent  career,  is  not  so 
much  softened  as  to  lose  its  value  as  a  portrait.  His  self- 
esteem  and  love  of  approbation  are  amusingly  played  off  by 

1  Charmides,  153  B-C.  2  Euthydemus,  272  B-D. 

8  Ibid.  273  A.     '     4   Theaetetus,  180  B.         5  Euthydemus,  285  C. 


XI I  PREFACE. 

his  young  ward  Charmides,  under  the  guise  of  deference  and 
submissiveness. 

The  fact  that  the  chief  actors  in  the  Laches  are  histori- 
cal personages  lends  a  peculiar  interest  to  this  dialogue. 
Prominent  as  generals  no  less  than  as  citizens,  Laches  and 
Nicias  differ  as  widely  in  regard  to  their  common  interest, 
the  art  of  warfare,  as  in  their  traits  of  character.  That 
Laches  is  both  a  good  lover  and  a  good  hater  is  shown  by 
his  whole-souled  admiration  of  Socrates  and  by  his  round 
abuse  of  the  cautious  and  prudent  Nicias,  who  in  his  turn 
does  not  scruple  to  express  in  unflattering  terms  his  opinion 
of  his  adversary's  ability.  The  spirit  of  recrimination  be- 
trayed in  the  remarks  of  both  is  set  off  by  the  calm  and 
dispassionate  manner  in  which  Socrates  conducts  his  inves- 
tigations. The  fiery  and  impatient  Laches  is,  with  some- 
what questionable  consistency,  made  the  mouthpiece  of  one 
of  Plato's  most  characteristic  and  beautiful  descriptions, — 
that  of  the  true  musician  whose  life  is  attuned  to  a  noble 
harmony  of  words  and  deeds,  —  a  passage  which  has  been 
called  the  keynote  of  Plato's  theory  of  virtue.1 

But  it  is  of  a  younger  generation  that  the  most  vivid  as 
well  as  the  most  attractive  portraits  are  drawn.  In  the 
Laches,  it  is  true,  the  boys  whose  education  is  the  objective 
point  of  the  conversation  play  only  a  passive  part ;  but  in  each 
of  the  other  dialogues  the  figures  upon  whom  our  attention 
centres  belong  to  the  flower  of  the  Athenian  youth,  and  bear 
that  stamp  of  breeding  which  seems  to  have  been  a  birth- 
right of  noble  parentage,  and  which  goes  far  to  justify  the 
aristocratic  predilections  of  Plato.  Free  from  concern  as  to 
their  own  reputation,  they  have  no  thought  of  concealing  the 
"  wonder "  which  Socrates  prizes  as  an  "  affection  peculiar 
to  the  philosophic  mind."2  All  alike  display  a  charming 
1  Laches,  188  C-E.  2  TheatMus,  155  D. 


PREFACE.  Xlll 

simplicity  and  ingenuousness,  which  are  the  more  remark- 
able by  reason  of  the  adulation  lavished  upon  them  by  young 
and  old.  It  speaks  well  for  the  healthiness  and  symmetry 
of  Hellenic  influences  that  a  universal  adoration,  partaking 
almost  of  a  religious  character,  has  imparted  to  them  no 
trace  of  vanity  or  self-consciousness,  the  taint  of  which  must 
inevitably  have  diminished  their  zeal  in  the  pursuit  of  truth. 

There  is  Cleinias,  the  lad  in  whose  future  welfare,  as  scion 
of  an  illustrious  family,  his  fellow  citizens  feel  so  deep  an 
interest.1  Led  by  the  kindly  guidance  of  Socrates,  he  is  re- 
leased from  his  painful  bewilderment,  and  enabled  to  form 
by  himself  such  sound  conclusions  that  he  no  longer,  it  is 
declared,  "  needs  either  Euthydemus  or  any  one  else  to  teach 
him."  2  There  is  Lysis,  with  his  shy  impulsiveness,  his  artless 
candour,  his  absorbed  interest  in  the  discussion,  and  his  insa- 
tiable eagerness  to  hear  "  more  besides  ;  "  8  and  the  maturer 
Menexenus,  his  bosom  friend,  a  terrible  fellow  for  pugnacity, 
as  Socrates  playfully  pretends  to  know  to  his  cost.4  And 
pre-eminent  among  all  is  the  gracious  figure  of  Charmides, 
beautiful  in  mind  as  in  body,  an  enchanting  combination  of 
modest  dignity  and  arch  sprightliness. 

But  as  the  Theaetetus  is  of  these  five  dialogues  the  most 
serious  and  profound,  so  the  chief  personage  there  depicted 
is  the  best  calculated  to  excite  our  admiration  and  interest. 
Although  the  physical  beauty  of  the  other  youths  has  been 
denied  him,  he  is  yet  one  of  the  most  attractive  of  the  group. 
Much  as  we  are  led  to  expect  from  the  enthusiastic  descrip- 
tion which  precedes  his  appearance,  his  own  revelation  to  us 
of  his  character  and  intellect  does  not  disappoint  us.  The 
very  embodiment  of  unobtrusive  modesty,  he  is  yet  full  of 
courage  in  the  expression  of  his  opinions,  and  ever  ready 

1  Euthydemus,  275  A.  2  Ibid.  290  E. 

8  Lysis,  211  B.  4  Ibid.  211  C. 


xiv  PREFACE. 

to  throw  himself  into  the  breach  and  assume  a  part  which 
he  would  fain  have  seen  filled  by  another.  "You  are  a 
beauty,  Theaetetus,"  Socrates  exclaims,  "  for  he  who  speaks 
beautiful  words  is  himself  both  beautiful  and  good."1  There 
is  a  peculiar  pathos  in  the  contrast  between  the  bright  future 
predicted  for  Theaetetus  and  the  touching  picture  of  this 
noble  youth  mortally  wounded  and  on  his  way  home  to  die. 

The  allusion  to  the  battle  which  decided  the  fate  of  Theae- 
tetus,2 probably  that  which  took  place  late  in  the  summer 
of  394  B.  c.,  would  fix  this  date  as  the  one  assumed  for  the 
dialogue,  just  as  the  reference  to  the  fight  at  Potidaea3  (432 
B.  c.)  leaves  no  doubt  as  to  the  supposed  date  of  the  Char- 
mides.  A  clew  is  given  also  as  to  the  time  of  action  of  the 
Laches  by  the  mention  of  the  battle  of  Delium  (424  B.  c.) 
as  a  past  occurrence,4  while  an  allusion  to  Alcibiades  the 
Older  as  dead6  (404  B.  c.)  assigns  certain  limits  of  time  to 
the  Euthydemus.  Every  student  of  Plato,  however,  knows 
that,  although  historical  allusions  of  this  kind  are  of  great 
value  in  fixing  a  time  prior  to  which  the  dialogue  in  question 
could  not  have  been  composed,  we  must  be  very  cautious 
about  drawing  any  rash  conclusions  from  the  juxtaposition  in 
which  persons  and  events  are  placed,  for  our  author  allows 
no  questions  of  consistency  to  hinder  the  free  play  of  his 
imagination.  Availing  himself  of  the  poet's  privilege  to  sub- 
ordinate historical  accuracy  to  dramatic  truth,  he  never  hesi- 
tates, if  it  suits  his  purpose,  to  make  his  actors  take  part  in 
events  which  occurred  before  they  were  born,  or  to  allude  to 
incidents  which  did  not  take  place  till  long  after  their  death. 

It  may  also  here  be  noted  that,  although  in  the  dramatic 
portions  of  Plato's  dialogues,  every  word  of  Socrates,  if  not 
actually  taken  from  his  lips,  is  at  least  such  as  he  might  have 

1  Theaetetus,  185  E.  2  Ibid.  142  B.  3  Charmides,  153  B. 

4  Laches,  181  B.  5  Euthydetnus,  275  A. 


PREFACE.  XV 

uttered,  we  find,  in  passing  to  the  philosophical  discussions, 
that  "the  Socrates  of  these  discourses  is  in  great  measure 
Plato  himself,  expounding  —  under  his  master's  name  and 
with  much  of  his  master's  manner  —  doctrines  of  his  own 
which  he  had  developed  under  the  inspiration  of  the  teach- 
ings of  Socrates,  or  which  he  believed  Socrates  would  have 
approved  if  he  could  have  lived  to  appreciate  them.  We 
have,  in  fact,  here  suddenly  passed  from  the  Socratic  to  the 
Platonic  Socrates.  Plato  was  in  the  habit  of  using  his  master 
in  his  dialogues  as  a  mouthpiece  for  the  expression  of  his 
own  speculations ;  and  he  thus  makes  him  utter  many  doc- 
trines which  the  real  Socrates  would  hardly  have  understood, 
and  many  which  that  rigid  questioner  would  have  subjected 
to  a  merciless  cross-examination.  .  .  .  Still  we  must  re- 
member that  it  is  through  Plato  that  his  master  is  best  known  ; 
and  it  is  the  Platonic  Socrates,  quite  as  much  as  the  real 
Socrates  who  has  passed  into  history.  Even  Aristotle  often 
quotes  Plato's  doctrines  under  the  name  of  Socrates."  * 

In  the  Theaetetus,  various  schools  of  philosophy,  both  past 
and  present,  are  successively  passed  in  review ;  and  their  lead- 
ers, even  when  not  referred  to  by  name,  were  doubtless  easily 
identified  by  an  audience  to  many  of  whom  they  must  have 
been  personally  known.  For  none  except  for  Parmenides, 
the  great  chief  of  the  Eleatic  school,  who  taught  that  all  ex- 
istence is  one  and  changeless,  does  Socrates,  or  Plato  in  his 
name,  express  any  respect.2  Protagoras  is  treated  with  the 
same  good-natured  and  amused  tolerance  as  elsewhere ; 8 
while  in  the  Euthydemus,  Isocrates,  whom  Plato  chooses  to 
regard  as  a  type  of  the  half-way  philosopher,  desiring  to  keep 
clear  of  risks  and  at  the  same  time  to  reap  every  attainable 
advantage,  is  so  severely  dealt  with  that  by  his  side  even  the 

1  Professor  Goodwin's  Introduction  to  Socrates. 

2  Theaetetus,  183  E.  8  Ibid.  161  B-i68  C. 


XVI  PREFACE. 

Sophist  Euthydemus  for  once  appears  to  advantage.1  The 
spirit  of  compromise  never  received  a  sterner  rebuke  than  in 
this  scathing  denunciation. 

In  the  Sophist  brothers,  already  several  times  alluded  to, 
Plato  draws  an  amusing  caricature  of  a  type  to  whom  he 
has  been  accused  of  doing  scant  justice.  That  the  Sophists 
were  simply  the  average  teachers  of  the  day,  representing 
neither  more  nor  less  than  the  average  standard  of  morality, 
is  now  too  well  established  to  need  further  demonstration. 
In  professing  to  impart  virtue  and  wisdom,  they  were  really 
not  professing  to  impart  what  Plato  himself  understood  by 
these  terms,  for  to  them  wisdom  meant  practical  knowledge 
of  affairs,  while  virtue  meant  mere  efficiency  in  public  and 
private  life.  Thus  their  pretentious  promises,  which  enticed 
men  away  from  nobler  studies  and  pursuits,  were  not  neces- 
sarily made  with  intent  to  deceive.  But  to  an  idealist  like 
Plato  it  was  a  debasement  of  terms  to  class  among  those  who 
had  embraced  the  high  calling  of  teacher,  men  to  whom  ethical 
doctrine  was  an  accessory  rather  than  a  primary  purpose, 
and  who  regarded  as  of  subordinate  interest  that  which,  in 
ironical  phase,  he  describes  as  "  the  one  little  thing  beside  .  .  . 
a  noble  soul."  2  That  the  effort  to  "  grow  like  unto  God  "  in 
justice,  wisdom,  and  holiness 3  should  be  abandoned  for  the 
accomplishment  of  some  "  slavish  task,"  4  that  truth  should 
be  disregarded,  —  truth,  the  "  knowledge  of  which  is  wisdom 
and  true  virtue,  while  the  ignorance  of  it  is  sheer  stupidity 
and  vice,"5  —  this  in  his  eyes  was  the  unpardonable  offence 
of  all.  It  is  for  this  reason  that  he  does  not  scruple  here 
as  elsewhere  to  expose  to  ridicule  the  overweening  preten- 
sions to  knowledge  and  the  utter  incompetency  of  the  men 

1  Euthydemus,  305  €-306  D.  2  Charmides,  154  D. 

8  Theaetetus,  176  B.  *  Ibid.  175  E.  6  Ibid.  176  C. 


PREFACE.  Xvii 

whom  he  has  chosen  as  the  personification  of  false  teaching. 
The  famous  irony  of  Socrates  was  never  more  characteristi- 
cally or  amusingly  displayed  than  when,  under  pretence  of 
admiring  their  skill  and  cleverness,  he  makes  the  brothers 
Euthydemus  and  Dionysodorus  give  an  exhibition  of  their 
manner  of  "  refuting  every  proposition  whether  it  happen  to 
be  true  or  false," l  which  exhibition  is  in  itself  the  most 
complete  argument  against  their  own  method. 

If  there  is  room  for  wonder  that  fallacies  the  grotesque- 
ness  of  which  is  to  us  so  palpable  should  have  been  toler- 
ated, nay,  even  enthusiastically  received,  by  any  intelligent  au- 
dience, it  should  yet  be  remembered  that  "  the  wisest  of  men 
are  limited  by  the  conditions  of  the  age  in  which  they  live."2 
The  various  sophisms  of  which  Plato  here  gives  us  the  re- 
ductio  ad  absurdum  may  not  unfairly  be  classed  among  other 
"  erroneous  tendencies  of  the  reasoning  process  frequently 
incident  to  human  thought  and  speech,  —  specimens  of  those 
ever  renewed  inadvertencies  of  ordinary  thinking  which  it  is 
the  peculiar  mission  of  philosophy,  or  reasoned  truth,  to 
rectify." 8  Nor  must  we  forget  that  even  "  in  modern 
times  there  is  no  fallacy  so  gross,  no  trick  of  language  so 
transparent,  no  abstraction  so  barren  and  unmeaning,  no 
form  of  thought  so  contradictory  to  experience,  which  has 
not  been  found  to  satisfy  the  minds  of  philosophical  inquirers 
at  a  certain  stage,  or  when  regarded  from  a  certain  point  of 
view  only.  The  peculiarity  of  the  fallacies  of  our  own  age 
is  that  we  live  within  them,  and  are  therefore  generally  un- 
conscious of  them."  4 

To  bring  to  any  formal  conclusion  the  ever-renewed  search 

1  Euthydemus ;  272  B. 

2  Jowett's  Introduction  to  Purves'  Selections  from  Plato. 

3  Grote's  Plato,  vol.  i.  p.  550. 

4  Jowett's  Introduction  to  Euthydemus. 


xviii  PREFACE. 

for  truth  was  assuredly  far  from  the  purpose  of  one  who  es- 
teemed search  a  greater  good  than  knowledge.  But  we  shall 
find  that  in  Plato's  dialogues  the  discussion  is  rarely  brought 
to  a  close  without  the  introduction  of  some  new  thought 
which  has  perhaps  a  more  practical  value  than  the  problem 
originally  proposed.  From  the  Charmides  we  have  obtained, 
it  is  true,  no  definition  of  temperance,  —  a  name  which, 
like  justice  in  the  Republic,  stands  for  the  highest  ideal 
of  virtue,  —  but  we  have  learned  that  for  the  attainment  of 
that  ideal  no  one  particular  quality  can  suffice.  To  be  moder- 
ate, to  be  prudent,  or  even  to  possess  that  knowledge  of  self 
which,  in  Plato's  estimation,  is  the  foundation  of  all  knowl- 
edge, is  not  sufficient  for  perfect  temperance.  Only  by  the 
possession  of  virtue  in  its  integrity  can  be  brought  about  the 
harmonious  union  between  body  and  soul  which  makes  life 
itself  a  harmony  sweeter  than  that  of  "  lute  or  any  instrument 
for  pastime."  1  And  so  in  the  Lysis  t  where,  descending  to 
a  less  lofty  plane,  we  deal  with  human  relationships,  the 
very  failure  of  the  attempt  to  define  so  familiar  a  thing  as 
friendship  teaches  the  salutary  lesson  that  to  accept  or  take 
for  granted  is  not  the  same  as  to  know,  and  that  what  we 
suppose  ourselves  to  know  best  we  are  often  most  ignorant  of. 
Again  in  the  Laches,  although  we  fail  to  gain  any  adequate 
conception  of  courage,  we  learn  to  estimate  the  useless- 
ness  of  any  special  knowledge  compared  with  that  larger 
wisdom  which  is  reached  only  through  contemplating  the 
great  problems  of  life,  —  a  self-education  which  ends  not 
with  the  passing  away  of  childhood,  but  must  needs  be  pur- 
sued so  long  as  life  itself  shall  last.2 

By  exemplifying  a  vain  show  of  knowledge,  the  Euthyde- 
mus  paves  the  way  for  the  genuine  search  which  is  under- 
taken in  the  last  of  the  dialogues  before  us.     The  Theaetetus 
i  Laches,  188  D.  2  Ibid.  188  B. 


PREFACE.  XIX 

bears,  it  has  been  said,  the  same  relation  to  Plato's  theory  of 
knowledge  as  the  Gorgias  to  his  theory  of  morals.  One 
of  the  most  highly  finished  and  perfect  in  form  of  the  Pla- 
tonic dialogues,  it  ranks  also  as  "the  most  exact  in  phi- 
losophic expression,"  and  is  pregnant  with  the  deepest 
thought.  What  is  perhaps  its  most  important  contribution  to 
philosophy  —  the  discovery  that  the  soul  of  man  is  a  central 
principle  by  which  alone  perception  is  transformed  into 
thought  —  excited  among  its  first  hearers  an  enthusiasm 
which  may  appear  unwarranted  by  a  proposition  so  familiar 
to  ourselves.  So  true  it  is  that  "  the  highest  effort  of  philoso- 
phy in  one  generation  may  become  the  common  sense  of  the 
next,"  x  and  that  what  to-day  stands  in  the  light  of  a  mere 
truism  was  little  short  of  a  revelation  in  the  eyes  of  those 
to  whom  it  threw  open  a  whole  world  of  new  ideas. 

But  Plato  does  not  long  confine  his  subject  to  a  purely 
intellectual  plane.  Since  to  his  mind  right  conduct  is  insep- 
arable from  right  knowledge,  the  moral  aspect  cannot  be  far 
from  view,  and  we  soon  find  ourselves  contemplating  the  ever 
recurring  struggle  between  the  two  living  types,  —  the  phan- 
tom of  perception,  falsely  called  Real ;  and  the  Ideal,  the 
only  true  reality.  The  "  digression  "  2  wherein  the  "  two  ways 
of  living  "  are  contrasted  and  the  choice  of  the  higher  is  jus- 
tified is  filled  with  a  solemn  beauty  which  recalls  a  similar 
passage  in  the  Republic,  where  the  few  "  noble  natures " 
and  "great  souls"  whose  "thoughts  are  fixed  upon  reali- 
ties "  3  are  likened  to  "  one  who,  overtaken  by  a  mighty  tem- 
pest and  storm  of  dust  swept  onward  by  the  wind,  shelters 
himself  behind  a  wall,  rejoicing  if  he  may  pass  through  his 
earthly  life  free  from  evil  deeds  and  unrighteousness,  and  on 

1  Jowett's  Introduction  to  Purves'  Selections  from  Plato. 

2  Theaetetus,  172  C-i;;  C.  • 
8  Republic,  500  B. 


XX  PREFACE. 

his  release,  depart  hence   filled  with  fair  hopes  and  good 
will  to  all."  i 

It  is  interesting  to  observe  that  the  motives  adduced  for 
right  action  imply  a  spiritual  conception  of  the  future  life. 
The  incentive  to  "  become  just,  holy,  and  wise  withal "  is 
that,  since  the  man  "  who  has  made  himself  the  most  just " 
is  most  like  him  who  himself  is  "  perfectly  just,"  we  shall 
thus  "  grow  like  unto  God,"  and  so  find  the  ''  way  of  escape 
hence  to  yonder  place."  The  "  reward  of  unrighteousness  " 
to  be  dreaded  is  that  we  shall  "  grow  in  the  likeness  of  that 
which  we  resemble,"  and  may  not  therefore  hope,  "when 
dead,  to  be  received  into  that  place  which  is  free  from  evil."  2 
It  is  surely  not  fanciful  to  trace  throughout  this  beautiful 
passage  of  the  Theaetetus  a  foreshadowing  of  the  triumphant 
vindication  soon  to  be  shown  forth  in  the  trial  and  death  of 
Socrates,  a  fit  ending  to  a  life  wherein  "  words  are  attuned  to 
deeds,"3  —  such  a  life  as  is  "lived  by  gods  and  by  men 
blessed  of  Heaven."  4 

1  Republic,  496  D-E.  2  Theaetetus,  176  A-i;;  A. 

8  Laches,  188  D.  4  Theaetetus,  176  A. 


CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

CHARMIDES 3 

LYSIS 23 

LACHES 41 

EUTHYDEMUS 63 

THEAETETUS 99 


NOTES 149 


CHARMIDES. 


CHARMIDES. 

CHARACTERS. 

SOCRATES. 

CHAEREPHON,  a  friend  of  SOCRATES. 
CHARMIDES,  a  young  Athenian. 
CRITIAS,  guardian  of  CHARMIDES. 

The  scene  is  laid  in  the  Palaestra  of  TAUREAS. 


^?s^ 

wviasiir 
^WFogJ^ 

TALKS  WITH  ATM  IAN  YOUTHS. 


CHARMIDES. 

I  RETURNED  last  evening  from  the  camp  at 
Potidaea,1  and  was  well  pleased  after  so  long  an 
absence  to  visit  my  familiar  haunts  again.  I 
looked  in  of  course  at  the  palaestra  of  Taureas, 
which  is  right  opposite  the  temple  of  Basile ;  2 
and  there  I  found  a  very  large  company,  some 
unknown  to  me,  but  for  the  most  part  old 
friends.  The  sight  of  me  took  them  by  sur- 
prise, and  while  I  was  still  at  a  distance  they 
began,  each  from  where  he  sat,  to  bid  me  wel- 
come. Chaerephon,3  however,  like  the  crazy- 
brained  fellow  that  he  is,  springing  out  from 
among  them,  ran  to  me  and,  seizing  me  by  the 
hand,  exclaimed :  "  Oh,  Socrates,  can  it  be  that 
you  are  safely  out  of  the  battle  ?  " 

Shortly  before  we  came  away  a  battle  had 
taken  place  at  Potidaea,  the  news  of  which  had 
only  now  arrived. 

"  Just  as  you  see  me,"  I  replied. 


4  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN  YOUTHS. 

"Nay,"  said  he,  "but  the  report  here  is  that 
the  battle  was  a  very  severe  one,  and  that  many 
of  our  best-known  citizens  perished  there." 

11  And  the  report,"  I  said,  "  is  not  far  from  true." 

"  And  were  you  in  the  battle?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  was." 

"  Then,"  said  he,  "  come  here,  and  sit  down 
and  tell  us  all  about  it,  for  we  have  heard  no 
accurate  account  as  yet." 

As  he  spoke,  he  led  me  to  a  seat  beside 
Critias,  the  son  of  Callaeschrus.4  So  I  sat  down, 
and>  after  greeting  Critias  and  the  others,  gave 
them  all  the  news  of  the  camp  that  they  wanted, 
for  each  one  had  a  different  question  to  ask. 

When  we  had  had  enough  of  this,  I  in  my 
turn  asked  them  for  news  of  the  city,  —  how 
it  fared  now  with  matters  of  philosophy,  and 
whether  any  of  our  youths  had  become  noted 
for  their  intellect  or  their  beauty,  or  for  both. 
154  Just  then  Critias,  looking  toward  the  door,  saw 
a  number  of  young  fellows  coming  in,  laughing 
and  making  jokes  together,  while  a  crowd  of 
others  brought  up  the  rear. 

"  As  to  beauties,  Socrates,"  he  said,  "  you  will 
soon,  I  imagine,  see  for  yourself;  for  these  who 
are  now  coming  in  are  the  followers  and  lovers 
of  the  youth  who  passes  for  the  most  beautiful  of 
the  present  day,  and  he  himself  I  presume  is  on 
his  way  here  and  already  close  at  hand." 

"Who  is  he?"  I  asked,  "and  who  is  his 
father?" 


CHARMIDES.  5 

"  You  probably  know  him  yourself,"  he  re- 
plied, "  only  he  was  not  grown  up  when  you 
went  away,  —  my  cousin  Charmides,  the  son  of 
my  uncle  Glaucon."  5 

"  By  Zeus  !  "  I  exclaimed,  "  of  course  I  know 
him.  Even  then,  as  a  child,  he  was  not  one  to 
be  passed  unnoticed,  but  now  I  suppose  he 
must  be  a  well-grown  lad." 

"  You  shall  see  directly  how  large  he  is,  and 
what  he  has  grown  to  be." 

The  words  were  yet  on  his  lips  when  Char- 
mides entered.  Now,  my  friend,  you  cannot 
judge  by  me,  for  in  regard  to  beauty  I  am 
simply  like  a  chalk-mark  upon  a  white  wall; 
almost  any  one  in  the  bloom  of  youth  appears 
to  me  beautiful.  But  still,  this  lad  did  strike 
me  as  a  marvel,  both  as  to  beauty  and  stature ; 
and  it  seemed  to  me  that  the  rest  of  the  com- 
pany were  one  and  all  in  love  with  him,  from 
the  flutter  and  commotion  that  greeted  his  en- 
trance; while  a  crowd  of  other  admirers  fol- 
lowed in  his  train.  Now  this  was  less  surprising 
with  men  of  our  own  age,  but  I  noticed  that 
among  the  boys  also  there  was  not  one  —  not 
even  the  very  smallest  —  who  looked  in  any 
other  direction ;  all  gazed  upon  him  as  if  upon 
some  sacred  statue.6  Then  Chaerephon  calling 
me  by  name,  — 

"  Well,    Socrates,"    said    he,    "  what    do    you 
think  of  the   youth?     Is  he   not  fair  of  face?" 
"  Marvellously  fair,"  I  answered. 


6  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

"  And  yet,"  said  he,  "  if  he  would  but  take 
off  his  garments  you  would  think  his  face  ill- 
favoured,  so  faultlessly  beautiful  is  his  form." 

And  all  the  others  confirmed  the  words  of 
Chaerephon. 

"  By  Heracles  !  "  I  cried,  "  you  make  the  fel- 
low out  irresistible,  if  he  has  only  one  little 
thing  besides." 

"What?"  asked  Critias. 

"  If  he  has  a  noble  soul,"  I  answered ;  "  and 
this,  in  truth,  Critias,  he  ought  to  have,  since  he 
is  of  your  family." 

"  In  this  respect  also,"  said  Critias,  "  he  is 
perfection  itself."  7 

"What  say  you,  then?"  I  asked;  "shall  we 
not  take  the  vesture  from  off  his  soul  and  con- 
sider that,  before  his  outward  form?  Doubtless 
at  his  age  he  is  fond  of  conversation." 

"  Exceedingly  so,"  Critias  answered,  "  espe- 
cially as  he  has  a  turn  for  philosophy,  and  in  the 
155  opinion  of  some,  himself  included,  is  a  good  deal 
of  a  poet  besides." 

"  This  gift,  dear  Critias,"  said  I,  "  is  one 
which  dates  far  back  in  your  family,  from  your 
kinship  with  Solon.8  But  why  will  you  not  call 
the  lad  here  and  show  him  to  me?  There  could 
be  no  harm  —  could  there  —  in  his  conversing 
with  us  were  he  even  younger  than  he  is,  when 
you,  his  guardian  and  cousin  as  well,  are  by?  " 

"You  are  quite  right,"  he  said,  "  and  we  will 
send  for  him." 


CHARMIDES.  7 

With  that,  turning  to  the  attendant,  "  Boy,"  he 
said,  "  go  fetch  Charmides ;  but  first  say  that  I 
wish  to  present  him  to  a  physician,  for  the  cure 
of  that  ailment  about  which  he  was  complain- 
ing to  me  the  other  day.  He  said,"  continued 
Critias,  addressing  me,  "  that  of  late  his  head  had 
been  feeling  heavy  when  he  got  up  in  the  morn- 
ing. Now  why  should  you  not  pretend  that  you 
know  some  sort  of  cure  for  his  headache?  " 

"Why  not  indeed?"  said  I;  "only  let  him 
come." 

"  Oh,  he  will  come,"  said  he. 

And  so  it  happened ;  for  he  did  come,  and 
was  the  cause  of  much  merriment.  We  who 
were  seated  there  began,  in  hot  haste,  every  man 
to  push  his  neighbour,  in  order  that  Charmides 
might  sit  by  his  side,  until  at  last  he  who  was 
seated  at  the  one  end  was  forced  to  get  up, 
while  he  on  the  other  fell  over  sideways.  Char- 
mides, meanwhile,  came  and  sat  down  between 
Critias  and  myself. 

Now  by  this  time,  my  friend,  I  had  already 
begun  to  be  troubled,  and  the  confidence  I  had 
felt,  of  being  able  to  talk  to  him  with  perfect 
ease,  was  at  an  end.  .  .  .  However,  when  he 
asked  if  I  knew  the  cure  for  the  headache,  I  with 
much  difficulty  just  managed  to  answer  that 
I  did. 

"Well,"  he  asked,  "  what  is  it?  " 

Whereupon  I  told  him  that  it  was  a  kind  of 
leaf;  and  that,  besides  the  remedy,  there  was  a 


8  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN  YOUTHS. 

certain  charm  which,  if  pronounced  at  the  same 
moment  that  the  remedy  was  applied,  effected  a 
perfect  cure;  but  that  without  the  charm  the 
leaf  itself  was  of  no  avail."9 

"  I  will  write  down  the  charm  from  your  dic- 
156  tation,"  he  said. 

"  Whether  you  can  persuade  me  to  let  you 
or  not?"  I  asked. 

At  this  he  laughed.  "  If  I  can  persuade  you, 
Socrates,"  he  said. 

"  Very  good,"  said  I ;  "  and  are  you  quite 
sure  of  my  name?" 

"  Yes,  unless  I  am  all  in  the  wrong,"  he  an- 
swered, "  for  you  are  not  a  little  talked  about 
by  boys  of  our  age;  and  then  too  I  remem- 
ber when  I  was  a  child  seeing  you  with  my 
cousin  Critias." 

11  That  is  well,"  I  said.  "  I  shall  speak  to  you 
with  all  the  more  freedom  about  the  nature  of 
the  charm,  for  until  now  I  have  been  at  a  loss 
how  to  show  you  the  extent  of  its  power.  Such, 
Charmides,  is  its  nature  that  it  is  not  the  head 
alone  which  it  is  capable  of  curing.  Doubtless 
ere  now  you  have  heard  our  competent  physi- 
cians say,  when  a  man  comes  to  them  suffering 
from  his  eyes,  that  it  is  impossible  to  attempt  the 
cure  of  the  eyes  alone,  inasmuch  as  the  head 
must  be  treated  at  the  same  time,  if  the  eyes 
are  ever  to  be  cured;  and  so  again  with  the 
head,  to  suppose  that  it  may  be  treated  by  it- 
self apart  from  the  whole  body  would  be  sheer 


CHARMIDES.  9 

nonsense.  Following  out  this  principle,  they 
apply  the  regimen  to  every  part  of  the  body, 
and  make  it  their  aim  to  treat  and  cure  the 
whole,  together  with  the  part.  Have  you  not 
noticed  that  this  is  what  they  say,  and  that  it 
is  really  so?  " 

"  Certainly  I  have,"  he  said. 

"  And  do  you  not  think  them  right,  and  agree 
with  them?" 

"  By  all  means,"  he  said. 

Being  now  sure  of  his  approval  I  again  took 
heart,  and  by  degrees  my  confidence  was  re- 
stored and  I  felt  renewed  life  within  me.  And 
I  said,  — 

"  Well,  Charmides,  of  a  like  nature  is  this 
charm.  I  learned  it  yonder  on  the  campaign 
from  one  of  the  physicians  of  the  Thracian  king 
Zamolxis,  who  also  are  said  to  confer  immor- 
tality.10 This.  Thracian  told  me  that  the  Greek 
physicians  are  quite  right  in  speaking  as  I  have 
said.  *  But  Zamolxis/  he  added,  *  bur  King,  who 
is  moreover  a  God,  says  that  just  as  the  cure  of 
the  eyes  should  not  be  attempted  without  that  of 
the  head  also,  nor  that  of  the  head  without  the 
body,  even  so  there  is  no  cure  for  the  body 
apart  from  the  soul ;  and  the  reason  why  so 
many  diseases  elude  the  physicians  of  Greece 
is  that  they  know  nothing  of  the  whole,  which 
ought  to  be  their  chief  care,  since  if  this  be 
not  sound,  it  is  impossible  for  any  part  to  be 
well.  For  all  things,'  he  declared,  '  both  l}ad  and 


10  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

good,  not  only  in  the  body  but  in  every  part  of 
the  man,  have  their  starting-point  in  the  soul, 
whence  they  overflow,  in  the  same  way  as  from 
157  the  head  into  the  eyes.  First  then  and  above 
all  the  soul  must  be  treated,  if  the  head  and  the 
rest  of  the  body  are  ever  to  be  made  whole ;  and 
the  cure  of  the  soul/  he  said,  my  boy,  '  is 
brought  about  by  means  of  certain  charms, 
which  charms  are  good  words.  By  these  words 
temperance  is  begotten  in  the  soul;  and,  this 
once  begotten  and  abiding  there,  it  is  easy 
enough  to  supply  health  to  the  head  and  the  rest 
of  the  body.'  And  as  he  taught  me  the  cure  and 
the  charms,  '  Let  no  one,'  he  urged,  '  persuade 
you  to  treat  him  for  headache  with  this  medicine, 
until  he  has  first  yielded  up  to  you  his  soul  to  be 
treated  by  the  charm.  For  just  here,'  he  de- 
clared, '  the  mistake  is  made  in  regard  to  men. 
They  attempt  to  treat  the  body  independently 
of  the  soul/  And  most  strenuously  did  he  com- 
mand me  to  let  no  man,  were  he  ever  so  rich  or 
well-born  or  fair,  prevail  upon  me  to  do  other- 
wise than  this;  whereupon  I  took  my  oath  to 
him,  and  I  must  needs  perform  it,  and  so  I  will. 
And  if  you,  following  the  stranger's  injunctions, 
will  first  of  all  consent  to  yield  up  your  soul  to 
be  charmed  through  the  Thracian's  charm,  I  will 
afterward  apply  the  cure  to  the  head.  Other- 
wise, I  know  not  what  I  could  do  for  you,  dear 
Charmides." 

On  hearing  this,  Critias  exclaimecj :  "  A  god- 


CHARMWES.  1 1 

send  indeed,  Socrates,  would  this  headache  prove 
to  the  boy,  if  for  the  sake  of  his  head  he  should 
be  compelled  to  improve  his  intellect.  I  can 
assure  you,  however,  that  Charmides  has  been 
held  to  surpass  his  fellows,  not  in  outward  form 
alone,  but  in  this  very  quality  for  which  you  say 
you  have  a  charm, — temperance  you  call  it,  do 
you  not?  "  n 

"  Precisely  that." 

"  Know  then,"  he  went  on,  "  that  he  is  ac- 
counted far  the  most  temperate  among  our 
youths,  and,  considering  his  age,  in  all  other 
respects  inferior  to  none." 

"  And  by  good  rights,  Charmides,"  said  I, 
"  do  you  surpass  others  in  all  these  respects,  for 
I  suppose  there  is  no  one  here  present  who  could 
readily  point  out  two  Athenian  houses,  the  union 
of  which  was  likely  to  bring  forth  a  fairer  and 
better  descendant  than  those  from  which  you 
are  sprung.  Your  father's  family,  that  of  Critias, 
son  of  Dropidas,  has  been  handed  down  to  us 
in  the  eulogies  of  Anacreon  and  Solon  and  many 
other  poets,  as  pre-eminent  in  beauty  and  virtue 
58  and  whatever  else  is  deemed  a  blessing.  And 
it  is  the  same  on  your  mother's  side,  for  of 
your  uncle  Pyrilampes  it  is  said  that  often  as 
he  was  sent  on  embassies  to  the  great  King, 
or  anywhere  else  on  the  continent,  no  one  in 
any  place  was  ever  held  his  superior,  whether 
in  beauty  or  in  stature.  Indeed,  that  whole 
house  is  no  whit  inferior  to  the  other.  Such 


12  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

being  your  ancestry,  it  is  to  be  expected  that 
you  should  be  first  in  all  things.  And  so  far, 
dear  son  of  Glaucon,  as  the  eye  judges  of  your 
outward  form,  you  are,  methinks,  in  no  respect 
inferior  to  any  of  your  predecessors.  So  that  if, 
as  our  friend  here  assures  us,  you  are  well  en- 
dowed with  temperance  and  other  virtues  besides, 
then  indeed,  dear  Charmides,  your  mother  bore 
you  to  be  blessed.  The  case,  therefore,  stands 
thus :  If,  as  Critias  here  says,  you  have  already 
acquired  temperance,  and  are  sufficiently  tem- 
perate, you  need  no  further  charm,  whether  that 
of  Zamolxis  or  of  Abaris  the  Hyperborean,12 
but  may  be  given  at  once  the  cure  for  head- 
ache. If,  however,  you  still  seem  to  come  short 
of  this,  the  charm  must  be  used  before  the  cure 
is  applied.  Tell  me  yourself,  then,  whether  you 
agree  with  our  friends,  and  think  that  you  have 
a  sufficient  share  of  temperance  already,  or  are 
you  still  lacking  in  this?" 

Hereupon  Charmides  blushed  and  looked  even 
lovelier  than  before,  for  this  modesty  of  his  well 
became  his  years.  His  answer,  nevertheless,  was 
not  without  dignity,  for  what  he  said  was  that, 
under  the  circumstances,  it  was  not  easy  either 
to  agree  to  the  assertion  or  to  deny  it. 

"  For  if  I  deny  that  I  am  temperate,"  said 
he,  "  not  only  is  that  an  absurd  thing  for  any 
one  to  say  about  himself,  but  I  shall  be  making 
Critias  out  a  liar,  as  well  as  many  others  who, 
according  to  him,  hold  me  as  temperate ;  if,  on 


CHARMWES.  13 

the  other  hand,  I  declare  that  I  am  temperate, 
I  shall  be  praising  myself,  which  is  of  course 
offensive;,  so  that  I  really  have  no  answer  to 
give  you." 

"  What  you  say,  Charmides,"  I  remarked, 
"  seems  to  me  reasonable;  and  I  think  we  had 
best  consider  together  whether  you  do  possess 
the  quality  in  question  or  not,  in  order  that 
neither  you  may  be  forced  into  saying  what 
you  do  not  like,  nor  I  into  taking  up  the  prac- 
tice of  medicine  inconsiderately.  If,  therefore, 
it  is  agreeable  to  you,  I  should  like  to  look  into 
the  matter  with  you ;  if  not,  we  will  let  it  go." 

"I  should  like  it  of  all  things,"  he  said;  "  so 
pray  begin  just  where  you  think  best." 

[158  E.-i62  A.  In  compliance  with  the  request  of 
Socrates,  Charmides,  after  much  hesitation,  pro- 
poses two  successive  definitions  of  temperance. 
The  first  —  calmness  or  repose  —  is  rejected  on 
the  ground  that  most  actions  are  better  performed 
quickly  than  slowly.  The  second  —  modesty  — 
reached  after  '  a  right  manly  effort  of  mind/ 
is  pronounced  deficient,  on  the  strength  of  a 
quotation  from  Homer  to  the  effect  that  "  mod- 
esty is  no  good  thing  for  a  needy  man."  13  Char- 
mides then  bethinks  him  of  another  definition, — 
attending  to  one's  own  affairs.  Upon  this,  Soc- 
rates exclaims,  — 

161  C.  "Oh,  you  rogue,  you  got  this  from  Critias 
here  or  from  some  other  of  the  wise  men." 


14  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN  YOUTHS. 

"  From  some  other  most  likely,"  Critias  pro- 
tests, "  for  it  was  certainly  not  from  me." 

"  But  what  difference  does  it  make,"  asks 
Charmides,  "  where  I  got  it?" 

"  None  at  all,"  Socrates  admits,  "  for  of  course 
we  are  not  here  to  examine  who  said  it,  but 
whether  or  not  it  is  true." 

"  You  are  right  there,"  is  the  rejoinder. 

"  Of  course  I  am;  still  I  shall  be  surprised  if 
we  ever  do  find  out  the  meaning,  for  it  looks  as 
if  it  were  a  sort  of  riddle." 

After  demonstrating,  incidentally,  that  no  one 
in  a  civilized  community  can  be  absolutely  in- 
dependent of  other  men,  Socrates  resumes  as 
follows:] 

162  A.  "Well,  as  I  said  just  now,  he  who  defined 
temperance  as  attending  to  one's  own  business 
was  speaking  in  riddles,  for  he  was  not,  I  pre- 
sume, quite  a  fool;  or  perhaps  it  was  some  fool 
that  told  you,  Charmides?  " 

"  On  the  contrary,"  said  he,  "  I  supposed  him 
to  be  particularly  wise." 

"  Then  most  assuredly  he  was  proposing  it  as 
a  riddle,  meaning  how  hard  it  is  to  know  what 
attending  to  one's  own  business  is." 

"Very  likely,"  said  he. 

"  Well,  what  is  it  to  attend  to  one's  own  busi- 
ness? Can  you  tell  me?  " 

"  Not  I,  by  Zeus  ;  and  I  really  should  not  won- 
der if  he  who  said  this  may  not  know  himself  what 


CHARM  IDES.  15 

he  meant."  And  as  he  spoke  he  glanced  mean- 
ingly at  Critias  and  smiled. 

Now,  it  had  been  evident  for  some  time  past 
that  Critias  was  getting  uneasy,  and  anxious 
about  sustaining  his  reputation  before  Char- 
mides  and  the  others,  and  that  he  had  barely 
restrained  himself  up  to  this  moment;  but  now 
he  could  do  so  no  longer.  And  this  makes  me 
all  the  more  certain  that  my  suspicion  was  true, 
and  that  it  was  from  Critias  that  Charmides  had 
heard  the  answer  concerning  temperance.  Char- 
mides, however,  who  did  not  wish  to  undertake 
the  defence  of  the  definition  himself,  but  to  have 
Critias  do  it,  kept  urging  him  on  and  pointing 
out  how  he  had  been  worsted  in  the  argument. 
This  was  too  much  for  Critias,  and  he  got  an- 
gry with  Charmides,  — just,  I  thought,  as  a  poet 
might  get  angry  with  some  actor  who  has  recited 
his  verses  badly.  Thus,  looking  him  straight  in 
the  face,  he  said,  — 

"  So  you  think,  Charmides,  do  you,  that  just 
because  you  do  not  know  what  the  man  means 
who  said  that  temperance  is  attending  to  one's 
own  business,  he  himself,  forsooth,  does  not 
know?  " 

"  But,  my  excellent  Critias,'*  said  I,  "  it  is  no 
wonder  that  Charmides,  at  his  age,  should  know 
nothing  about  what  you,  with  your  superior  age 
and  experience,  doubtless  do  understand.  If  you 
therefore  agree  that  temperance  is  what  he  now 
calls  it,  and  are  ready  to  accept  the  definition,  I 


1 6  TALKS    WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

would  much  rather  examine  with  you  whether 
or  not  it  is  true." 

"  I  agree  to  it  entirely,"  he  said,  "  and  I  do 
accept  the  definition." 

[162  £.-175  D.  In  imitation  of  the  verbal  hair- 
splitting of  Prodicus,14  Cn'tias,  to  suit  his  own  pur- 
pose, draws  distinctions  between  making,  doing, 
and  acting,  and  quotes  Hesiod's  saying,  "  Work 
is  no  disgrace,"  in  support  of  what  he  now  pro- 
claims to  be  his  true  meaning;  namely,  that 
temperance  consists  in  the  performance  of  good 
works,  which,  whether  for  one's  self  or  for  others, 
are  a  man's  own  or  proper  business ;  intemper- 
ance, in  the  performance  of  works  which,  being 
useless  or  ignoble,  are  of  alien  character. 

But  what,  it  is  objected,  if  one  be  unconscious 
of  his  own  temperance?  As  the  physician  can- 
not always  know  whether  by  healing  a  patient 
he  is  or  is  not  conferring  a  benefit  upon  him, 
so  a  man,  although  acting  with  temperance  or 
wisdom,  may  himself  remain  uncertain  or  even 
ignorant  of  it. 

164  C.  Critias  now  declares  that  he  will  own  himself 
mistaken,  rather  than  admit  that  a  man  who  does 
not  know  himself  can  possess  temperance ;  for 
that  this  is  a  quality  inseparably  linked  with  knowl- 
edge of  self  is  shown  by  the  coupling  together 
in  the  Delphic  temple  of  the  two  injunctions : 
Be  temperate  ;  Know  thyself.  He  therefore  pro- 
poses to  substitute  for  the  previous  definition 


CHAKMIDES.  I/ 

that  of  self-knowledge.  Here  Socrates  pauses 
to  inquire  into  the  purpose  of  temperance.  As 
a  science,  it  must  be  the  science  of  something. 
What,  then,  is  this  thing?  The  answer  is  that, 
unlike  other  sciences,  all  of  which  are  applied  to 
an  object  outside  of  themselves,  temperance, 
while  including  within  itself  all  the  other  sciences, 
is  pre-eminently  the  science  of  itself,  its  own  re- 
production being  its  legitimate  end. 

The  demand  for  a  more  definite  answer  is  met 
by  a  complaint  from  Critias  that  Socrates  is  try- 
ing to  refute  him. 

1 66  C.  "  And  if  I  do  refute  you,"  Socrates  replies, 
"  have  I  any  motive  save  that  which  leads  me  to 
scrutinize  my  own  words  also,  —  the  fear  of  un- 
consciously imagining  myself  to  know  when  I 
do  not  know?  And  as  to  the  search  I  am  now 
making,  it  is  chiefly  indeed  for  myself,  but  for 
my  other  friends  as  well.  For  is  it  not  a  gain 
in  which  all  men  share,  to  have  everything  put 
in  its  true  light?" 

169  Further  investigation  arouses  doubt  as  to  the 
reality  or  use  of  such  a  science  as  the  one  just 
described,  and  a  longing  for  the  help  of  "  some 
great  man " 15  to  solve  it.  '  And  here/  Soc- 
rates remarks,  '  Critias,  hearing  my  words  and 
beholding  my  perplexity,  for  all  the  world  like 
those  who,  seeing  their  neighbour  yawn,  are 
themselves  similarly  affected,  seemed  himself  also 
to  have  fallen  a  prey  to  perplexity.  But,  accus- 
tomed as  he  was  to  be  treated  with  universal 


1 8  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

deference,  he  was  ashamed  and  unwilling  before 
all  the  others  to  confess  himself  incapable  of 
maintaining  the  point  which  I  had  challenged. 
So,  to  cover  his  perplexity,  he  muttered  some- 
thing quite  unintelligible,' 

Self-knowledge  is  finally  abandoned  as  a  defi- 
nition of  temperance,  on  the  ground  that  it  is 
an  impossibility  and  that  even  if  it  were  possible 
it  would  be  useless.16  One  last  attempt  is  made, 
by  defining  it  as  the  knowledge  of  good  and  evil, 
but  this  also  proves  itself  inadequate,  and  Soc- 
rates ends  by  confessing  that  he  and  his  friends 
have  been  defeated  in  their  attempt  to  define 
that  quality  which  the  "  namer  of  things  " 17  has 
called  temperance  or  wisdom.] 

175  D.     "Now  on    my  own  account   I    am    not   so 
much  troubled ;    but  on  yours,  Charmides,  I  am 
truly  distressed  if  with  such  an  outward  form  and, 
yet  more,  with  such  temperance  of  soul,  you  are 
to    derive   no   benefit   from  this   temperance    of 
yours,  nor  any  help  from  its  presence  in  your  life. 
And  still  more  am  I  distressed  about  the  charm 
which   I  learned  from  the    Thracian,   if  indeed 
that  which  I  took  such  pains   to   acquire  is   in 
reality  a  thing  of  no  worth.     I  do  not,  however, 
believe  that  this  is  actually  the  case,  but  rather 
that  I  myself  am   poor  at  searching;   for  tem- 

176  perance   is  surely  a  great  blessing,  and   if  you 
really  have  it,  happy  are  you.     Consider,  there- 
fore,  whether  you   do   possess   it  and   have   no 


CHARMIDES.  1 9 

need  of  the  charm.  For,  if  you  do,  I  would 
advise  you  rather  to  account  me  a  foolish  bab- 
bler, incapable  of  finding  out  anything  at  all 
with  the  help  of  reason,  if  you  will  only  be- 
lieve that  the  more  you  grow  in  temperance 
the  happier  you  will  be." 

Then  Charmides  said :  "  By  Zeus,  Socrates,  I 
do  not  know  whether  I  possess  it  or  not.  How, 
indeed,  should  I  know  a  thing,  the  nature  of 
which  even  you  are  incapable  of  ascertaining? 
At  least  this  is  what  you  say,  though  I  do  not 
much  believe  you.  But  as  for  myself,  Socrates, 
I  do  think  that  I  am  in  great  need  of  the  charm ; 
and  there  is  no  reason,  so  far  as  I  am  concerned, 
why  I  should  not  let  myself  be  charmed  by  you 
every  day,  until  you  say  that  it  is  enough." 

"  That  is  well,  Charmides,"  said  Critias ;  "  only 
do  this  and  I  shall  deem  it  a  proof  of  your  tem- 
perance, that  you  give  yourself  up  to  be  charmed 
by  Socrates,  and  never  desert  him  in  great  mat- 
ters or  in  small." 

"  Rest  assured,"  he  answered,  "  that  I  shall 
follow  him  and  never  be  a  deserter.  Indeed,  I 
should  be  doing  a  dreadful  thing  to  disobey 
you  who  are  my  guardian,  and  not  do  as  you 
command." 

"  Well,  I  do  command  it,"  Critias  said. 

"  Then  I  shall  do  it,"  he  said,  "  beginning  from 
this  very  day." 

"  Come  now,"  said  I,  "  what  are  you  two  plot- 
ting about?" 


2O  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN  YOUTHS. 

"  Nothing,"  said  Charmides ;  "  our  plots  are 
already  laid." 

"  So  you  are  going  to  use  force,  are  you,"  I 
asked,  "  and  not  let  me  even  present  my  case?  " 

"  Yes,  you  must  expect  force,"  he  replied, 
"since  Critias  here  commands  ;  therefore  you  had 
best  be  considering  what  you  will  do  about  it." 

"  But  there  is  no  longer  any  use  in  consider- 
ing," said  I ;  "  for  if  you  have  made  up  your 
mind  to  accomplish  anything,  no  matter  what, 
and  that  by  force  to  boot,  no  human  being  is 
capable  of  opposing  you." 

"  Then  do  not  you  oppose  me  either,"  he 
said. 

"  Indeed  I  shall  not,"  I  answered. 


LYSIS. 


LYSIS. 


CHARACTERS. 

SOCRATES. 

LYSIS,  ) 

/  young  Athenians. 
MENEXENUS,  ) 

HIPPOTHALES,  an  admirer  of  LYSIS. 
CTESIPPUS  of  Paeania. 

The  scene  is  laid  in  a  newly  built  Palaestra,  jttst  otitside  the 
walls  of  Athens. 


LYSIS. 

I  WAS  walking  straight  across  from  the  Acad- 
emy to  the  Lyceum,  by  the  outside  road  close 
under  the  wall,1  when,  on  reaching  the  little  gate 
by  the  fountain  of  Panops,  I  met  Hippothales 
the  son  of  Hieronymus,  and  Ctesippus  the  Paea- 
nian,  and  several  other  youths  gathered  together 
in  a  group.2  As  he  saw  me  approaching,  Hip- 
pothales called  out,  — 

"  Ho,  Socrates,  where  are  you  from,  and  whither 
bound?" 

"  I  have  come  from  the  Academy  and  am  go- 
ing straight  across  to  the  Lyceum,"  I  answered. 

"  Come  straight  here  instead,"  he  cried.  "  Why 
not  turn  aside  to  us?  It  is  worth  your  while,  I 
can  tell  you." 

"  Where,  pray?  "  I  asked  ;  "  and  whom  do  you 
mean  by  *  us  '?  " 

"  Here,"    he    said,    pointing    to    an    enclosed 

space  with    an    open    door,   right   opposite   the 

wall.     "  Here  is  where  we  spend  our  time  ;   and 

204  not  we   only,  but   many  others,  and    handsome 

fellows  too." 

"  But  what  is  this  place,  and  how  do  you  spend 
your  time  in  it?  " 

"  It  is  a  newly  built  palaestra,"  he  replied ; 
"  and  our  time  is  spent  for  the  most  part  in  con- 


24  TALKS    WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

versation,  of  which  we  would  gladly  give  you 
a  share." 

"  Very  kind  of  you,"  said  I ;  "  and  who  is  the 
teacher  there?" 

"  Your  friend  and  admirer,  Miccus,"  he 
answered. 

"  By  Zeus !  "  I  exclaimed,  "  he  is  no  ordinary 
man,  —  in  fact,  an  accomplished  Sophist." 

"  Will  you  come  with  us  then,"  he  asked, 
"  and  see  for  yourself  who  are  there  ?  " 

[204  B.-2O6  D.  Still  another  motive  for  visiting  the 
palaestra  is  shortly  presented.  A  certain  fair 
and  well-born  youth,  Lysis  by  name,  is  greatly 
beloved  by  Hippothales,  who,  as  shown  by  a 
humorous  account  from  Ctesippus,  has  so  over- 
whelmed the  object  of  his  admiration  with  praise 
and  adulation,  that  he  has  made  himself  odious 
to  the  modest  youth.  Conscious  of  his  own 
want  of  success,  Hippothales  appeals  to  Socrates 
to  know  by  what  word  or  course  of  action  he 
may  best  ingratiate  himself.] 

"  That  is  not  easy  to  tell,"  I  replied.  "  If, 
however,  you  cared  to  have  him  converse  with 
me,  I  might  perhaps  be  able  to  give  you  an 
example  of  what  I  think  you  ought  to  say 
to  him,  instead  of  the  verses  and  songs  in 
which  your  friends  here  tell  me  you  address 
him." 

"No  difficulty  about  that,"  he  said.     "  If  you 


LYSIS.  25 

and  Ctesippus  here  will  go  inside  and  sit  down 
for  a  talk  together,  he  will,  I  think,  join  you  of 
his  own  accord;  for  he  is  especially  fond,  Soc- 
rates, of  listening.  And  besides,  as  they  are  cele- 
brating the  Hermaea,3  the  young  men  and  boys 
are  allowed  to  mingle  together,  so  he  is  sure  to 
join  you.  But  if  he  does  not,  he  is  well  acquainted 
with  Ctesippus,  through  Menexenus,  who  is  a 
cousin  of  Ctesippus  and,  as  it  happens,  the  most 
intimate  friend  of  Lysis.  Therefore  if  he  does 
not  come  to  you  of  his  own  accord,  Ctesippus 
shall  summon  him." 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  "  that  is  the  best  way." 
Herewith,    taking  hold  of  Ctesippus,   I  went 
into   the   palaestra,  the    others  bringing  up  the 
rear. 

On  entering  we  found  that  the  sacred  rites 
were  nearly  over,  and  that  the  boys,  all  in  their 
festive  array,  had  offered  the  sacrifices  and  were 
having  a  game  at  knuckle-bones.  The  greater 
part  of  them  were  in  the  court  outside ;  but  in  a 
corner  of  the  disrobing-room  4  a  few  were  play- 
ing at  odd  and  even,  with  a  quantity  of  bones 
which  they  took  out  of  little  wicker  baskets.  A 
group  of  lookers-on  surrounded  them.  Among 
these  was  Lysis,  who,  with  a  chaplet  upon  his 
107  head,  shone  out  pre-eminent  among  the  boys  and 
youths,  and  seemed  worthy  of  note,  not  for  beauty 
alone,  but  for  graces  of  character  as  well.  As 
for  us,  we  withdrew  to  the  opposite  side,  and  sit- 
ting down  (for  it  was  quiet  there),  entered  into 


26  TALKS    WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

conversation.  Now  Lysis  kept  turning  round  to 
look  at  us,  evidently  longing  to  draw  near.  For 
a  while,  however,  he  was  at  a  loss  what  to  do, 
as  he  hesitated  to  come  forward  alone.  But  by- 
and-by,  Menexenus,  in  the  midst  of  his  game, 
came  in  from  the  court,  and  seeing  Ctesippus 
and  myself,  came  over  and  sat  down  by  us.  As 
soon  as  Lysis  saw  this,  he  followed  him  and  sat 
down  too  by  the  side  of  Menexenus.  There- 
upon all  the  others  came  in  also,  and  Hippo- 
thales  among  them,  when  he  saw  what  a  crowd 
was  gathered  there.  But,  so  fearful  was  he  of 
annoying  Lysis,  that  he  placed  himself  where  he 
thought  he  should  be  concealed  by  the  others 
and  escape  observation.  Standing  in  this  posi- 
tion, he  listened. 

Then,  looking  at  Menexenus  :  "  Which  of 
you  two,  son  of  Demophon,"  I  asked,  "  is  the 
elder?" 

"  There  is  a  dispute  between  us  as  to  that,"  he 
answered.  • 

"  And  you  might  dispute  also,  I  suppose,"  said 
I,  "which  is  the  nobler?" 

"  Certainly  we  might." 

"  And  which  the  handsomer?" 

At  this  they  both  began  to  laugh. 

44  As  to  which  is  the  richer,"  I  said,  "I  shall 
not  inquire ;  for  you  are  friends,  are  you  not?  " 

"  That  we  are,"  they  replied. 

"  And  friends,  they  say,  have  all  things  in  com- 
mon ;  so  that  in  this  respect  at  least  there  will 


LYSIS.  27 

be  no  difference  between  you,  —  that  is,  if  you 
speak  the  truth  about  your  friendship." 

They  assented. 

I  was  on  the  point  of  asking  which  was  the 
juster  and  which  the  wiser  of  the  two ;  but  be- 
fore I  had  time,  some  one  came  in  for  Menexe- 
nus,  saying  that  the  director  of  the  gymnasium 
was  calling  for  him,  as  it  was,  I  believe,  his  turn 
to  offer  some  sacrifice.  So  he  went  off,  and  I 
fell  to  questioning  Lysis. 

./*'  I  suppose,  Lysis,"  said  I,  "  that  your  father 
and  mother  love  you  very  dearly?  " 

"  Indeed  they  do,"  he  said. 

"  And  they  would  like  to  have  you  as  happy 
as  possible?  " 

"  Of  course  they  would  !  " 

"  Well,  do  you  think  any  one  happy,  who  is 
a  slave  and  is  never  allowed  to  do  what  he 
wishes?  " 

"  Not  I,  by  Zeus,"  he  replied. 

"  And  since  your  father  and  mother  love  you 
and  want  you  to  become  happy,  it  is  evident, 
is  it  not,  that  they  strive  in  every  way  to  make 
you  happy?  " 

"  Of  course  they  do  !  "  he  said. 
\      "  And  so  they  allow  you   to  do  just  as  you 
please,    and    never   scold    you    or    prevent   you 
from  doing  whatever   you    may  wish?" 

"  In  faith,  Socrates,  but  they  do ;  they  pre- 
vent me  very  often." 

"  What  do  you  mean?  "  I  cried.     "  They  wish 


28  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN  YOUTHS. 

208  your  happiness,  and  yet  prevent  your  doing  what 
you  wish?  Tell  me,  pray  j/n,  during  a  race,  you 
wanted  to  mount  one  of  your  father's  chariots 
and  take  the  reins,  would  they  not  allow  you,  — 
would  they  hinder  you  from  doing  it?  " 

"  By  Zeus,"  exclaimed  he,  "  they  would  never 
allow  me !  " 

"  Whom  then  would  they  allow?  " 

"  My  father  has  a  charioteer,  to  whom  he  pays 
a  wage." 

"What!  they  allow  a  hireling  rather  than  you 
to  do  whatever  he  likes  with  the  horses,  and  they 
,    give  him  money  over  and  above?  " 

"Why  not,  pray?  "  he  asked.  S 
/"  But  they  do,  I  suppose,  trust  you  to  manage 
the  pair  of  mules ;   and  if  you  wished  to  take  the 
whip  and  beat  them,  they  would  allow  that?  " 

"  Allow  me,  indeed  !  "  he  said. 

"  What !  "  I  asked,  "  is  no  one  allowed  to  beat 
them?" 

"  Oh   yes,  of  course,"    said  he ;    "  the  mule- 
driver." 

"  Is  he  a  slave  or  a  free  man?  " 

•'  A  slave." 

"  They  think  more  then,  it  seems,  of  a  slave 
than  of  you,  their  son !  They  entrust  their  pos- 
sessions to  him  rather  than  to  you,  and  allow  him 
to  do  what  he  likes,  while  you  they  prevent! 
./Well,  tell  me  yet  further.  Do  they  give  you  tne 
control  of  yourself,  or  do  they  not  trust  you 
even  thus  far?  " 


L  YSIS.  29 

"  Trust  me  indeed  !  " 

"What!    does  some  one  else  control  you?" 

"  Yes,  my  tutor  here." 

"  Not  a  slave,  surely?  " 

"  Why  not?  "  he  said.    "  He  belongs  to  us." 

"  Well,  it  is  a  hard  thing,"  I  said,  "  that  you, 
who  are  free-born,  should  be  controlled  by  a 
slave.  And  in  what  way  does  this  tutor  of  yours 
control  you?  " 

"  He  takes  me  to  my  teacher's,  of  course." 

"  But  surely,  they,  your  teachers,  do  not  also 
control  you  ?  " 

"  Assuredly  they  do." 

"  Well,  your  father  seems  nothing  loath  to 
set  plenty  of  rulers  and  masters  over  you !  Of 
course,  however,  when  you  come  home  to  your 
mother,  she,  thinking  only  of  your  happiness, 
allows  you  to  do  whatever  you  like  with  the 
wool  or  the  web,  when  she  is  weaving?  Nor 
does  she,  I  imagine,  hinder  you  from  disturb- 
ing the  shuttle  or  the  comb,  or  any  of  the 
other  weaving  implements?" 

"By  Zeus!"  he  answered,  laughing;  "not 
only  does  she  prevent  me,  but  if  I  were  so  much 
as  to  touch  them,  I  should  get  a  beating." 

"  By  Heracles  !  "  I  cried ;  "  surely  you  have 
never  done  an  injury  to  your  father  or  mother?  " 

*  Not  I,  by  Zeus  !  "  he  answered. 

"Then  for  what  reason,  pray,  do  they  pre- 
vent you  so  harshly  from  being  happy  and  do- 
ing what  you  like,  and  keep  you  the  whole 


30  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

day  long  enslaved  to  others,  —  in  a  word,  doing 
hardly  anything  that  you  wish ;  insomuch  that 
you  apparently  get  no  good  from  all  your  pos- 
sessions, which  every  one  else  has  more  control 
209  over  than  yourself,  —  nor  even  from  your  own 
body,  fair  as  it  is,  since  this  too  is  taken  in  charge 
and  governed  by  another;  while  you,  Lysis,  have 
control  of  nothing,  nor  do  anything  that  you 
desire?" 

"  Because  I  am  not  old  enough  yet,  Socrates," 
he  said. 

"  That  would  not  prevent,  son  of  Demo- 
crates,"  said  I ;  "  for  there  are  cases,  I  imagine, 
where  your  father  and  mother  do  trust  you,  with- 
out waiting  till  you  are  old  enough.  When  for 
instance  they  want  some  one  to  read  or  write  for 
them,  it  is  you,  I  presume,  that  they  call  upon  to 
do  this,  rather  than  any  other  member  of  the 
household;  is  it  not?" 

"  To  be  sure,"  he  answered. 

"  And  you  are  free,  are  you  not,  to  choose 
which  letters  shall  be  written  first,  and  which 
second  in  order,  and  the  same  in  reading?  And 
when  you  take  your  lyre,  neither  your  father 
nor  your  mother,  I  presume,  hinders  you  from 
loosening  or  tightening  such  of  the  strings  as 
you  choose,  or  from  playing  with  your  fingers, 
or  striking  with  the  plectrum,5  —  or  do  they 
hinder  you  in  this  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not." 

"  And  what,  Lysis,  can  be  their  reason  for  not 


L  YSIS.  3  I 

hindering  you  here,  when  they  do  so  in  the  mat- 
ters of  which  we  first  spoke?  " 

"  I  suppose,"  said  he,  "  it  is  because  in  the 
one  case  I  understand,  and  in  the  other  I  do  not." 

"  Oh,  that  is  it,  my  dear  fellow  !  "  said  I.  "  Your 
father  then  is  not  waiting  for  you  to  be  of  the 
right  age  to  be  trusted  with  all  these  things; 
but  the  first  day  he  thinks  your  judgment  better 
than  his  own,  he  will  entrust  to  you  not  only  the 
care  of  his  property  but  of  himself. 

210  A.  "The  case  then,  dear  Lysis,  stands  thus.  In 
matters  which  we  understand  all  will  trust  us,  — 
Greeks  and  barbarians,  men  and  women  alike,  — 
and  here  we  shall  do  as  we  please,  and  none  will 
purposely  hinder  us,  but  we  shall  be  free  our- 
selves, and  have  control  of  others  also  ;  and  these 
things  will  belong  to  us,  for  we  shall  get  the 
good  of  them.  But  in  matters  which  we  do  notr 
understand  no  one  will  trust  us  to  do  as  we  like, 
but  all  will  hinder  us,  so  far  as  they  can,  —  not 
strangers  only,  but  father  and  mother,  and  one 
yet  nearer  than  these  if  there  be  any  such ;  and 
we  shall  be  subject  to  others ;  and  these  things 
will  not  belong  to  us,  for  we  shall  get  no  good 
from  them.  Do  you  agree  that  this  is  so?" 

"I  do." 

"  And  shall  we  be  friends  to  any  one,  or  will 
any  one  love  us  in  respect  to  the  matters  wherein 
we  are  useless?  " 

"  Certainly  not." 


32  TALKS    WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

"  Then  neither  does  your  father  love  you,  nor 
in  fact  does  any  one  love  any  one  else  in  so  far 
as  you  or  he  is  useless." 

"  It  seems  not." 

"  If  you  therefore,  my  boy,  are  wise,  all  men 
will  be  your  friends  and  all  as  your  kindred,  for 
you  will  be  useful  and  good.  If  not,  there  is  no 
one,  not  even  father  or  mother  or  kinsman,  who 
will  be  your  friend.  Now  then,  Lysis,  is  it  pos- 
sible to  pride  one's  self  upon  a  knowledge  of 
subjects  of  which  one  has  no  knowledge?" 

"  How  could  it  be  possible?"  he  answered. 

"  And  if  you  still  require  a  teacher,  you  have 
as  yet  no  knowledge?  " 

"  Very  true." 

"  And  if  you  have  no  knowledge  you  cannot 
pride  yourself  upon  knowing?" 

"  By  Zeus,  Socrates,"  he  cried,  "  I  do  not  think 
I  can." 

On  hearing  this  I  glanced  at  Hippothales  and 
came  very  near  making  a  mistake,  for  I  was  on 
the  point  of  saying,  —  "  This,  Hippothales,  is  the 
way  to  talk  to  your  favourite,  humbling  him  and 
setting  him  down,  instead  of  flattering  and  spoil- 
ing him  as  you  do."  But  when  I  perceived 
how  confused  and  distressed  he  was  by  what 
had  been  said,  I  remembered  that  he  had  wished 
his  presence  kept  a  secret  from  Lysis ;  so  I 
checked  myself  and  refrained  from  speech. 
211  Meanwhile  Menexenus  came  back,  and  sat 
\  down  again  beside  Lysis,  in  the  place  he  had 


LYSIS.  33 

previously  left.  Then  Lysis,  in  a  most  winning 
and  affectionate  way,  whispered  softly  in  my  ear, 
so  that  Menexenus  might  not  hear,  — 

"  Do,  Socrates,  tell  Menexenus  also  what  you 
have  been  telling  me." 

"  Tell  him  yourself,  Lysis,"  I  said,  "  for  you 
have  been  paying  close  attention." 

"  Indeed  I  have,"  he  said. 

"  Try  your  best  then,"  said  I,  "  to  recall  it,  that 
you  may  give  him  an  exact  account  of  it  all ;  and 
if  there  is  anything  you  forget,  you  may  ask  me 
about  it  the  next  time  we  meet." 

"  Yes,  Socrates,"  he  said,  "  I  certainly  will, 
you  may  depend  upon  it.  But  do  tell  him  some- 
thing besides,  so  that  I  may  listen  also  until 
it  is  time  to  go  home." 

"  Well,"  I  said,  "  I  suppose  I  must,  since  you 
>oid  me.     But  mind  that  you  come  to  my  rescue 
if  Menexenus  attempts  to  overthrow  me.    Or  per- 
haps you  do  not  know  that  he  is  pugnacious?  " 

"  That  he  is,  by  Zeus  !  "  said  he ;  "  excessively 
so.  And  that  is  just  why  I  want  you  to  argue 
with  him." 

"  That  I  may  make  myself  ridiculous?"  I 
asked. 

"  Oh  no,  indeed,"  he  answered,  "  but  that  you 
may  give  him  a  lesson." 

"How  could  I?"  I  cried.  "No  easy  matter 
that,  for  he  is  a  terrible  fellow,  —  a  pupil  of 
Ctesippus,  who  by  the  way  is  here  himself.  Do 
you  not  see  him?" 

3 


34  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN  YOUTHS. 

"  Pay  no  attention  to  any  one  else,  Socrates," 
he  said,  "  but  come  and  argue  with  him." 

"It  shall  be  done,"   I  said. 

As  we  talked  thus  together,  Ctesippus  called 
out, — 

"  Why  are  you  two  feasting  there  all  by  your- 
selves, and  giving  us  no  share  in  the  talk?  " 

"  Why,  of  course,"  said  I,  "  you  must  have 
a  share.  This  boy  here  does  not  quite  under- 
stand something  I  have  been  telling  him,  but  says 
he  thinks  Menexenus  knows  about  it,  and  bids 
me  ask  him." 

"Well,"  said  he,  "why  don't  you  ask?  " 

"I  am  going  to  ask,"  I  said;  "and  do  you, 
Menexenus,  answer  what  I  am  about  to  ask  you. 
You  must  know  that  from  childhood  there  is  one 
thing  that  I  have  coveted,  just  as  all/men  do 
covet,  some  one  thing,  some  another,  -fone  man 
for  instance  horses,  another  dogs;  one  wealth, 
another  honour.  Now,  things  of  that  kind  I  am 
indifferent  about ;  but  I  have  a  passion  for  gain- 
ing friends,  and  would  much  rather  get  a  good 
friend  than  the  best  cock  or  quail  in  the  world. 
Yes,  by  Zeus,  rather  than  a  horse  or  a  dog  either  ! 
By  the  Dog,6  I  verily  believe  that  I  would  choose 
a  friend,  before  all  the  gold  of  Darius  even,  so 
great  a  lover  of  friends  am  I.  When  therefore 
I  behold  you  two,  Lysis  and  yourself,  I  am  struck 
212  with  amazement,  and  think  what  good  fortune 
it  is  for  you,  young  as  you  are,  to  have  been 
able  with  such  speed  and  ease  to  acquire  this 


L  YSIS. 


35 


treasure,  and  to  gain,  each  for  himself,  quickly 
yet  surely,  such  a  friend  as  you  find  in  Lysis, 
and  he  in  you.  For  my  own  part,  so  far  am  I 
from  such  a  possession  that  I  do  not  even  know 
how  one  man  becomes  the  friend  of  another; 
and  it  is  precisely  in  regard  to  this  that  I  want 
to  question  you,  as  one  having  experience." 

[212  A.-22I  E.     The,  inquiry  which  ensues  leads  to 
the  following  question  from  Socrates : 

213  C.  "  Whom  then,"  he  asks,  "  may  we  call  friends 
one  to  the  other?  " 

"  By  Zeus,  Socrates,"  is  the  answer,  "  I  for  my 
part  cannot  very  well  make  out." 

"  May  it  not  be  then,  Menexenus,"  Socrates 
asks,  "  that  we  have  not  made  our  search  at  all 
in  the  right  way?  " 

"  I  do  not  believe  you  have,  Socrates,"  Lysis 
exclaims,  blushing  as  he  speaks ;  '  for  so  ab- 
sorbed was  he  in  the  conversation  —  as  he  had 
evidently  been  from  the  first  —  that  the  words 
seemed  to  have  escaped  him  involuntarily. 
Wishing  to  let  Menexenus  rest,  and  pleased  with 
the  earnestness  shown  by  Lysis,'  Socrates  finishes 
with  him  the  inquiry  as  to  the  true  basis  of 
friendship,  the  result  of  which  is  as  follows:] 

"  If  then,"  said  I,  "  you  are  friends  one  to  the 
other,  there  must  be  some  sort  of  congeniality  in 
your  natures." 

"  Most  assuredly,"  they  both  exclaimed. 


36  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

'•'  And  if  any  one  longs  for  another  or  loves 
him,  you  may  be  sure,  my  boys,  that  he  could 
222  never  have  felt  this  longing,  or  love,  or  friend- 
ship, if  there  had  not  been  some  congeniality  in 
the  soul,  or  in  some  quality  of  it, —  either  its 
moral  character  or  habits  or  general  type." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Menexenus. 

But  Lysis  was  silent. 

"  Very  good,"  said  I ;  "  and  it  has  been  proved 
that  we  must  necessarily  love  what  is  of  a  nature 
congenial  to  our  own." 

"  So  it  seems,"  he  said. 

"  Therefore  he  who  unfeignedly  loves,  not  he 
who  merely  pretends  to  love,  must  of  necessity 
be  loved  by  his  beloved." 

To  this  Lysis  and  Menexenus  gave  but  faint 
assent,  while  Hippothales  turned  all  colours,  for 

i°y-  i .  7  ?  ?  ? 

[222  B.-E.  Further  investigation,  however,  brings 
about  the  discovery  that  things  of  like  nature 
cannot  be  mutually  useful,  and,  after  one  more 
fruitless  attempt  at  a  satisfactory  definition, 
Socrates  thus  recapitulates  the  steps  already 
taken:] 

"  If  then  neither  they  who  love  nor  they  who 
are  loved,  neither  the  like  nor  the  unlike,  neither 
those  who  are  good  nor  those  who  are  of  kin, 
nor  any  of  the  others  we  have  passed  in  review,  — 
I  cannot  remember  them  for  their  number,  —  if 


. 

LYSIS.  37 

none  of  these,  I  say,  are  examples  of  friendship, 
why  then  I  know  not  what  more  I  can  say." 
223  With  these  words  I  had  thought  to  stir  up 
some  one  of  the  elders.  But  just  then,  like  some 
kind  of  evil  spirit,  in  came  the  tutors  of  Menexe- 
nus  and  Lysis,7  with  the  brothers  of  the  boys, 
and,  calling  out,  ordered  them  to  go  straight 
home ;  for  by  this  time  it  was  late.  At  first  we 
and  the  bystanders  were  for  driving  them  off. 
As  they,  however,  paid  us  no  heed,  but  went  on 
storming  and  shouting,  with  their  outlandish 
accent,  as  loudly  as  ever,  we  came  to  the  con- 
clusion that  they  had  been  drinking  a  trifle  at 
the  Hermaea,  and  would  be  hard  to  deal  with; 
so  that,  fairly  worsted  by  them,  we  broke  up 
the  assembly.  But  as  they  were  going  off,  I 
said,  — 

"  In  truth,  Lysis  and  Menexenus,  we  have  been 
cutting  a  ridiculous  figure,  —  I,  old  man  that  I 
am,  and  you  along  with  me.  For  these  people 
will  go  off  and  say  of  us  that  though  we  imagine 
ourselves  to  be  friends,  —  I  include  myself  with 
you,  —  we  have  not  yet  been  able  to  find  out 
what  a  friend  is." 


LACHES. 


LACHES. 

CHARACTERS. 

SOCRATES. 

LYSIMACHUS,  son  of  ARISTIDES. 

MELESIAS,  son  of  THUCYDIDES. 

Two  BOYS,  sons  ^/"LYSIMACHUS  and  MELESIAS. 

NICIAS,  ) 

v  Athenian  generals. 
LACHES,  \ 


LACHES. 

178  Lysimachus.  You  have  now,  Nicias  and  Laches, 
seen  the  man  who  fights  in  armour,1  though  you 
do  not  yet  know  why  Melesias  and  I  urged  your 
going  with  us  to  see  him,  as  we  did  not  tell  you 
at  the  time.     This  we  will  now  do,  for  we  think 
it  right  to  be  open  with  you.     Some  there  are 
who  turn  matters  of  this  kind  into  ridicule  and,  if 
asked  advice,  will  not  say  what  they  really  think, 
but  guess  at  the  wishes  of  their  questioner,  and 
speak  contrary  to  their  own  convictions.     You, 
however,  we  believe  capable  not  only  of  forming 
an  opinion,  but,  having  formed  it,  of  stating  it 
frankly;    and   so  we   have  taken  you   into   our 
counsel  touching   that  which  we   are  about  to 

179  unfold.     Well,  what  I  have  been  so  long  in  get- 
ting at  is  this.     Here  are  our  two  sons :  this  one, 
who  belongs  to  Melesias,  is  named  after  his  grand- 
father Thucydides;  the  other  one,  who  is  mine, 
likewise  bears  the  name  of  his  grandfather  and 
of  my  father,  —  Aristides  we    call   him.2     Now 
we  are  determined  to  give  them  the  best  pos- 
sible care,  not  letting  them  when  they  are  only 
half  grown    do    exactly   as    they    please,    after 
the  fashion  of  many  parents,   but  beginning  at 
once  to  do  the  best  we  possibly  can  for  them. 


42  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN  YOUTHS. 

Knowing,  therefore,  that  you  too  have  sons,  we 
supposed  that  you,  if  any  one,  would  have  taken 
thought  what  treatment  would  most  improve 
them ;  and  if  you  have  not  paid  much  attention 
to  this,  we  will  remind  you  that  it  is  a  duty  not 
to  be  neglected,  and  will  exhort  you  to  make 
common  cause  with  us  in  the  care  of  our  sons. 

And  you  must  hear,  Nicias  and  Laches,  what 
brought  this  to  our  minds,  though  the  tale  be 
somewhat  long.  We  two,  Melissus  and  I,  live  to- 
gether, and  our  sons  with  us.  Now,  as  I  said  in 
the  beginning,  we  will  be  open  with  you.  Of 
our  fathers  we  have  each  of  us  many  and  noble 
deeds  to  relate  to  the  lads,  —  deeds  done  in 
war  and  in  peace,  in  managing  the  affairs  of 
the  allies,  as  well  as  of  this  city, —  but  of  our 
own  deeds  neither  of  us  has  a  word  to  say. 
This  is  of  course  humiliating,  and  we  blame  our 
fathers  for  having  let  us  run  wild  when  we  were 
young,  while  they  themselves  were  attending  to 
the  interests  of  others.  And  these  things  we 
hold  up  as  a  warning  to  our  boys,  telling  them 
that  if  they  disobey  us  and  are  indifferent  to 
their  own  improvement  their  lives  will  be  in- 
glorious ;  while  if  they  apply  themselves  they  will 
doubtless  become  worthy  of  the  names  they  bear. 
And  as  they,  on  their  part,  promise  to  obey,  we 
are  now  considering  what  they  must  study  or 
practise,  if  they  would  become  men  of  worth. 
Now  some  one  suggested  to  us  this  art,  saying 
what  a  fine  thing  it  is  for  a  youth  to  learn  how 


LACHES.  43 

to  fight  in  armour,  and  praising  the  man  whose 
exhibition  you  have  seen,  and  advising  us  to 
see  it  for  ourselves.  Accordingly  we  thought  it 
our  duty  to  go  to  see  the  show,  taking  you 
with  us  as  spectators  and  at  the  same  time,  if 
you  are  willing,  as  advisers  and  partners  in  the 
1 80  care  of  our  sons.  This  is  what  we  wished  to 
impart  to  you.  It  is  for  you  now  to  advise  us 
whether  in  your  opinion  the  art  is  one  to  be 
studied  or  not,  and  whether  there  is  any  other 
pursuit  or  branch  of  knowledge  that  you  could 
recommend  for  a  young  man,  and  to  say,  more- 
over, what  you  will  do  in  regard  to  joining  us. 

Nicias.  For  my  part,  Lysimachus  and  Mele- 
sias,  I  commend  your  intention  and  am  ready  to 
join  you ;  and  so  I  think  is  Laches  here. 

Ladies.  You  are  right,  Nicias,  in  so  thinking. 
•  What  Lysimachus  has  said  about  his  own  father 
and  the  father  of  Melesias  is  quite  true,  it  seems 
to  me,  not  only  of  them,  but  of  ourselves  and  all 
who  have  to  do  with  public  affairs,  —  they  treat 
their  children  and  their  other  private  concerns 
very  nearly  as  he  says,  setting  them  aside  and 
making  them  of  no  account.  You  are  quite  right, 
Lysimachus,  in  what  you  say.  But  I  wonder 
that  you  summon  us  to  advise  with  you  about 
the  lads'  education,  and  not  rather  Socrates ;  for 
in  the  first  place  he  is  of  your  own  deme,  and 
then  besides  he  is  forever  haunting  places  where 
may  be  found  such  high  thinking  or  noble  living 
as  you  are  in  search  of  for  your  lads. 


44  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

Lys.  What  do  you  mean,  Laches?  Has  our 
friend  Socrates  turned  his  attention  to  any  of 
these  matters? 

Lack.     Certainly  he  has,  Lysimachus. 

Nic.  I,  no  less  than  Laches,  can  testify  to  that, 
for  he  lately  recommended  to  me  a  man  as  teacher 
of  music  for  my  boys,  —  Damon,  the  pupil  of 
Agathocles,3  —  who  is  not  only  the  most  accom- 
plished of  men  in  music,  but  is  in  all  other  re- 
spects a  most  suitable  person  to  consort  with 
boys  of  my  son's  age. 

Lys.  Those  who  are  of  my  time  of  life,  friends 
Socrates,  Nicias,  and  Laches,  do  not  know  young 
men  at  all  well,  because  our  age  keeps  us  for  the 
most  part  at  home.  But  if  you,  son  of  Sophro- 
niscus,  have  any  good  advice  to  offer  this  fellow- 
demesman  of  yours,  pray  do  so.  This  is  but 
right,  since  you  are  my  friend  by  right  of  de- 
scent from  your  father.  He  and  I  were  al- 
ways comrades  and  friends,  and  up  to  the  day 
of  his  death  there  was  never  any  difference  be- 
tween us.  And  I  recollect  hearing  these  boys 
say  something  on  the  subject  only  lately.  When 
they  are  talking  together  at  home,  they  are  con- 
stantly bringing  up  the  name  of  Socrates,  and 
181  lauding  him  extravagantly.  Tell  me,  boys,  is  this 
the  Socrates  whom  you  are  all  the  time  talk- 
ing about? 

Boy.     Yes,  father,  the  very  same. 

Lys.  You  have  done  well,  Socrates,  by  Hera, 
in  reflecting  such  credit  upon  that  best  of  men, 


LACHES.  45 

your  father,  and  above  all  in  reviving  the  family 
bonds  between  us. 

Lack.  Yes,  indeed,  Lysimachus,  you  had 
better  not  let  him  go;  for  I  remember  seeing 
him  on  another  occasion  when  he  reflected  credit 
not  only  upon  his  father,  but  upon  his  fatherland. 
In  the  flight  from  Delium,  he  and  I  made  the 
retreat  together ;  and  I  can  only  say  that  if  others 
had  shown  themselves  such  as  he,  our  city  would 
have  held  her  own  and  not  at  that  time  suffered 
such  loss.4 

Lys.  This  is  high  praise,  Socrates,  which  you 
are  receiving  from  men  worthy  of  trust  in  the 
matters  whereof  they  speak.  Rest  assured  that 
I  rejoice  to  hear  of  your  being  held  in  esteem, 
and  count  me  one  of  your  warmest  well-wishers. 
You  ought  long  ago  to  have  looked  upon  us  as 
kinsmen  and  come  constantly  to  our  house,  as 
was  fitting ;  and,  now  that  we  have  revived  ac- 
quaintance, you  must,  I  insist,  from  this  day  for- 
ward be^on  intimate  terms  with  us  and  with 
these  youths,  that  our  friendship  may  thus  be 
preserved.  We  shall  rely  upon  you  then  to  do 
your  part,  and  shall  not  fail  to  keep  you  in  mind 
of  it.  But  what  do  you  say  to  what  we  were 
speaking  about?  What  think  you?  Is  it  useful 
or  is  it  not  for  our  boys  to  learn  fighting  in 
armour? 

Soc.  Well,  of  course,  Lysimachus,  I  will,  as 
best  I  can,  advise  you  and  do  all  else  that  you 
bid.  But  it  seems  to  me  fairer,  seeing  that  I  am 


46  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

younger  and  less  experienced  than  the  others, 
to  let  me  first  hear  what  they  have  to  say  and 
to  learn  of  them,  and  then  if  anything  contrary  to 
what  has  been  said  occurs  to  me  I  can  inform 
you  of  it,  and  convince  you  and  the  others  of  its 
truth.  So  why,  Nicias,  should  not  one  of  you 
speak  first? 

[181  D.-iS/  D.  Nicias,  as  champion  of  the  art  in 
question,  sets  forth  its  various  advantages,  but 
is  met  by  the  objection,  from  Laches,  that  the 
Lacedaemonians,  although  greatest  in  matters  of 
war,  have  never  known  this  art : 

183  A.  "And  even,"  Laches  asserts,  "  if  they  them- 
selves had  not  known  it,  surely  the  teachers  of 
the  art  must  have  been  aware  that  the  Lacedae- 
monians pay  more  attention  than  all  the  rest  of 
the  Hellenes  to  matters  of  the  kind,  and  that 
any  one  who  had  gained  their  esteem  would  be 
sure  to  command  the  highest  price  elsewhere, 
as  is  the  case  with  any  tragic  poet  who  has  gained 
the  esteem  of  our  own  people.  Insomuch  that 
any  one  who  thinks  he  can  write  a  fine  tragedy 
does  not  go  about  exhibiting  in  the  other  cities 
of  Attica,  but  hurries  straight  here,  as  a  matter 
of  course,  and  exhibits  to  us.5  But  I  observe 
that  these  fighters  in  armour,  on  the  contrary, 
regard  Lacedaemon  as  a  holy  place  where  one 
may  not  set  foot  even  on  tiptoe ;  and  so,  keeping 
on  the  outer  edge  of  the  circle,  they  prefer  to 
exhibit  anywhere  else,  and  especially  to  those 


LACHES.  47 

who  by  their  own  confession  are  inferior  to  others 
in  matters  relating  to  war.  .  .  .  Neither  has  any 
one  of  the  men  who  practise  this  art  ever  distin- 
guished himself  in  war.  .  .  .  For  instance,  this 
very  Stesilaus,  whom  you  and  I  have  seen  ex- 
hibiting to  such  a  crowd  and  talking  so  boast- 
fully about  himself,  I  saw  upon  another  occasion 
give  in  good  earnest  a  far  finer  exhibition  of  him- 
self, though  an  involuntary  one.6  He  was  serving 
on  board  a  ship  which  had  attacked  a  merchant- 
man, and  was  fighting  with  a  kind  of  scythe-spear, 
a  weapon  as  peculiar  as  he  himself  was  peculiar 
among  men.  It  is  not  worth  while  to  speak  of 
the  man  himself,  but  only  of  what  befell  this 
same  amusing  invention  of  the  scythe-spear.  In 
fighting,  he  got  it  entangled  in  the  rigging  of  the 
other  ship,  and  there  it  stuck  fast.  Stesilaus 
tugged  at  it,  hoping  to  get  it  free,  but  without 
success.  Meanwhile  the  ships  were  slipping 
asunder.  For  a  time  he  ran  along  his  own  ship, 
holding  on  to  his  spear  the  while;  but,  as  the 
other  ship  passed  by,  drawing  him  and  his  spear 
after  it,  he  let  the  spear  slide  through  his  hands 
184  till  at  last  he  was  holding  on  only  by  the  tip 
end.  Then  there  arose  great  laughter  and  clap- 
ping of  hands  from  those  in  the  merchantman, 
at  the  figure  he  cut ;  and  when  some  one  threw 
a  stone  which  fell  at  his  feet  on  the  deck,  and 
he  let  go  the  spear,  even  those  on  his  own 
trireme  could  no  longer  keep  back  their  laughter 
at  the  sight  of  that  scythe-spear  swinging  mid- 


48  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN  YOUTHS. 

air  from  the  merchantman."  The  lesson  drawn 
is  that  "  no  one,  except  he  be  of  surpassing 
valour,  can  escape  being  ridiculous  if  he  boasts 
of  possessing  the  art  in  question." 

1 86  A.     Socrates,  on  being   asked    for   his    opinion 
declares  that  where  the  education  of  children, 
"  the  greatest  of  our  possessions,"  is  in  question, 
our  first  care  should  be  to  secure  the  advice  of 
one  who  has  had  good  teachers  and  is  himself 
skilled   in  the  care  of  the  soul.     "  As  for  me," 
he   adds,   "  I  am   the   first  to  admit  that  I   have 
never   had   a   teacher  in  these    matters,  though 
from  my  youth  up  I  have  longed  for  one.     But 
I  have  not  the  means  to  give  the  Sophists  their 
hire,7  and  they  alone  proclaim  themselves  able 
to  turn  me  out  a  perfect  man ;   while  as  to  dis- 
covering the  art  for  myself,  I  am  as  yet  inca- 
pable of  it."  .  .  . 

Socrates  now  suggests  that  Nicias  and  Laches, 
who  add  to  the  advantages  of  wealth  that  of  riper 
years,  be  asked  to  give  proof  of  their  qualifica- 
tions. Lysimachus  accordingly  requests  that 
these  two  will,  with  the  help  of  Socrates,  ex- 
amine the  subject  in  question,  and  answer  what- 
ever Melesias  may  think  proper  to  ask.] 

187  D.     NIC.     You  do  of  a  truth,   Lysimachus,  ap- 
pear to  know  Socrates  only  through  his  father, 
and  to  have  had  no  acquaintance  with  the  man 
himself,  unless  perhaps  you  may  have  met  him 
amongst  your  fellow-demesmen  when  as  a  child 


LACHES.  49 

he  was  accompanying  his  father  to  a  temple 
or  to  some  other  gathering  of  the  people.8  But 
that  you  have  not  come  across  him  since  he  has 
grown  older  is  very  plain. 

Lys.     Why,  Nicias,  what  do  you  mean? 

Nic.  You  do  not  seem  aware  that  if  any  one 
comes  into  close  contact  with  Socrates  and  is 
drawn  into  a  conversation  with  him,  no  matter 
what  subject  is  first  started,  the  man  keeps  lead- 
ing him  about  in  argument  until  he  falls  into  the 
pitfall,  and  has  to  give  an  account  of  himself,  and 
of  the  way  in  which  he  is  now  living  and  has 
1 88  lived  in  the  past;  and  when  once  he  has  him 
there,  Socrates  will  not  let  him  out  until  he  has 
put  him  to  a  full  and  thorough  test  in  all  these 
matters.9  Now  I,  for  my  part,  am  used  to  him, 
and  know  that  this  must  be  suffered  at  his  hands ; 
and  I  know,  moreover,  that  I  myself  shall  suffer 
it.  But  it  delights  me,  Lysimachus,  to  be  in  his 
company,  and  I  deem  it  no  evil  thing  to  be 
called  to  account  for  whatever  we  have  done  or 
are  now  doing  that  is  not  right.  Rather  is  a 
man  in  this  way  compelled  to  use  greater  zeal 
for  the  time  to  come,  if  only  he  does  not  shun 
the  lesson,  but,  with  Solon,  desires  to  learn  so  long 
as  he  has  life,  and  does  not  imagine  that  old  age 
brings  sense  of  itself.10  To  me  it  is  far  from 
an  unusual  or  even  an  unpleasant  thing  to  be 
cross-examined  by  Socrates ;  and  I  knew  some 
time  back  that,  when  he  was  present,  the  talk 
would  not  be  confined  to  youths  but  would  be 
4 


50  TALKS    WITH  ATHENIAN  YOUTHS. 

extended  to  ourselves.  As  I  say,  then,  so  far  as 
I  am  concerned,  there  is  nothing  to  prevent  his 
talking  to  us  just  as  he  likes.  But  see  how 
Laches  feels  about  it. 

Lack.  My  feeling  about  discussions,  Nicias,  is 
simple,  or  rather  not  simple,  but  two-sided.  To 
one  and  the  same  person,  indeed,  I  might  appear 
in  the  light  of  a  lover  and  at  the  same  time  a 
hater  of  discourse.  For  when  I  hear  a  man 
speaking  of  virtue  or  any  form  of  wisdom,  if 
he  be  a  true  man  and  worthy  of  the  words  he 
utters,  I  rejoice  exceedingly  to  see  that  speaker 
and  words  are  in  accord  and  harmonize  one  with 
the  other;  and  such  a  man  I  deem  to  be  a  true 
musician,  for  he  is  attuned  to  the  sweetest  har- 
mony, —  not  that  of  the  lute  or  any  instrument 
for  pastime,  but  to  that  of  true  living,  —  his  life 
itself  a  symphony  wherein  words  are  attuned  to 
deeds.  No  Ionian  mode  is  this,  nor  yet  a  Phry- 
gian, nor  a  Lydian,  but  the  pure  Dorian,  the 
only  truly  Greek  harmony.11  When  such  a  man 
speaks  I  rejoice,  and  I  appear  a  lover  of  dis- 
course, so  eagerly  do  I  receive  his  words.  But 
one  who  is  of  opposite  character  is  a  vexation 
to  me,  and  all  the  more  the  better  I  think  he 
speaks;  and  then,  on  the  contrary,  I  am  taken 
for  a  hater  of  discourse.  With  the  words  of 
Socrates  I  am  not  familiar;  but  of  his  deeds 
I  have  had,  as  you  know,  experience  in  the  past, 
and,  by  these,  I  know  him  worthy  to  express 
189  freely  the  noblest  thoughts.  If  this,  then,  is  the 


LACHES.  51 

case,  I  am  at  one  with  him  ;  and  I  would  gladly  be 
questioned  by  such  a  man  as  he,  and  not  ill- 
pleased  to  learn  of  him.  Nay,  I  am  of  the  same 
mind  with  Solon  save  in  one  particular.  As  I 
grow  old,  my  desire  is  to  learn,  indeed,  many 
things,  but  only  of  good  men.  Let  him,  then, 
grant  me  this,  —  a  teacher  who  is  himself  good, 
that  I  may  appear  no  reluctant  or  unapt  scholar. 
But  as  to  whether  the  teacher  is  younger  than 
myself,  or  whether  he  has  not  as  yet  attained 
celebrity  or  anything  of  that  kind,  I  care  nothing 
at  all.  And  so,  Socrates,  I  would  inform  you, 
that  you  may  instruct  me  and  cross-examine  me 
just  as  you  please,  and  in  your  turn  learn  of  me 
all  that  I  know.  Such  is  my  feeling  toward  you 
ever  since  the  day  when  you  met  danger  at  my 
side,  and  gave  that  proof  of  valour  which  is  the 
true  one  for  a  man  to  give.  Say,  then,  whatever 
you  please,  and  do  not  take  our  respective  ages 
into  account. 

Soc.  I  cannot,  apparently,  accuse  either  of 
you  of  not  being  ready  to  consult  and  inves- 
tigate with  me. 

Lys.  But  it  is  a  subject,  Socrates,  that  con- 
cerns us  both,  for  I  count  you  as  one  of  our- 
selves. Consider  then  in  my  stead  what,  for  our 
boys'  sake,  we  ought  to  learn  of  these  men,  and 
talk  and  advise  with  them.  For  already,  by 
reason  of  my  age,  I  forget  much  of  what  I  have 
in  mind  to  ask;  and  if  other  talk  comes  in  be- 
tween, I  cannot  remember  very  well  what  I  may 


52  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN  YOUTHS. 

have  heard.  Do  you,  therefore,  talk  over  and 
discuss  among  yourselves  the  subjects  we  have 
started.  I  will  listen,  and  afterward  Melesias  and 
I  will  do  whatever  you  think  best. 

[189  D.-2OO.  As  the  object  of  the  present  inquiry  is 
to  ascertain  how  virtue  may  be  imparted,  the 
first  step  is  to  learn  its  true  nature  by  attempt- 
ing the  definition  of  some  one  part, — as,  for  in- 
stance, courage. 

190  E.  Of  this  Laches  confidently  asserts  that  "it  is 
not  hard  to  define.  If  a  man  remains  at  his 
post  and  repels  the  enemy,  and  does  not  flee 
before  them,  he  surely  is  a  man  of  courage." 

But  here,  Socrates  objects,  we  have  but  an 
imperfect  illustration,  since  some  modes  of  war- 
fare, such  as  the  Scythian,  consist  solely  in  re- 
treat. What,  then,  he  asks,  is  that  power  or 
quality  which  makes  a  man  brave  not  only  in  war 
and  dangers  of  the  sea,  in  disease  and  poverty, 
pains  and  fears,  but  which  enables  him  to  fight 
also  against  desires  and  pleasures,  both  at  his 
post  and  in  the  retreat? 

192  E.  "Endurance  of  the  soul,"  is  the  answer. 

But  this  too  is  shown  to  be  not  universally 
applicable,  since  there  may  be  such  a  thing  as 
foolish  endurance. 

194  "  Let  us,  however,"  Socrates  urges,  "stand 
by  our  search  and  endure  to  the  end,  lest 
courage  laugh  us  to  scorn  for  not  making 
a  courageous  search;  for  it  is  quite  possible 


LACHES.  53 

that  courage  may  turn  out  to  be  the  same  as 
endurance." 

To  this  Laches  replies :  "  I  am  quite  prepared, 
Socrates,  not  to  give  up ;  for  although  I  am  un- 
accustomed to  this  kind  of  argument,  a  certain 
spirit  of  dissatisfaction  has  got  hold  of  me  as  to 
what  has  been  said,  and  I  am  really  vexed  at 
not  being  able  to  express  what  is  in  my  mind. 
I  seem  to  have  an  idea  of  what  courage  is ;  but 
it  has,  I  know  not  how,  slipped  away  from  me, 
so  that  I  cannot  get  hold  of  the  right  word  or 
say  what  it  is." 

11  But  must  not  the  good  huntsman,  my  friend," 
asks  Socrates,  "  follow  up  his  prey,  and  relax 
no  effort?" 

"  By  all  means,"  is  the  answer. 

"  Well,  should  you  like  to  summon  Nicias  to 
the  chase,  and  see  if  he  is  better  equipped  than 
we  are?  " 

"  I  should  like  it,"  Laches  replies.  "  Why 
not  do  so?  " 

"  Come  then,  Nicias,"  Socrates  urges,  "  and,  if 
you  have  the  strength,  rescue  these  your  friends 
who  are  tempest-tossed  in  a  sea  of  argument  and 
sore  perplexed.  You  see,  indeed,  in  what  straits 
we  are.  If  you  will  tell  us  what  you  take  cour- 
age to  be,  you  will  put  an  end  to  these  perplexi- 
ties of  ours  and  at  the  same  time  confirm  your 
own  opinions." 

Nicias,  recalling  an  old  saying  of  Socrates,  that 
"  Courage  is  a  kind  of  wisdom,"  now  ventures  to 


54  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

195  define  it  as  "  the  knowledge  of  what  is  or  is  not 
to  be  feared." 

"  What  strange  things  he  is  saying,  Socrates  ! " 
Laches  remarks. 

"  How,  Laches,  do  you  mean?" 

"  How?  Why,  surely,  knowledge  is  different 
from  courage !  " 

"  Nicias  says  not." 

"  But  that  is  not  true,  by  Zeus  !  "  Laches  ex- 
claims ;  "  there  is  just  where  he  talks  nonsense." 

"  Shall  we  not  then,"  Socrates  suggests,  "  in- 
struct rather  than  abuse  him  ?  " 

"  Nay,  Socrates,"  cries  Nicias ;  "  I  believe  what 
Laches  wants  is  to  make  out  that  I  am  talking 
nonsense,  because  he  himself  is  proved  to  have 
talked  it." 

"  I  shall  most  certainly  try  to  make  this  out, 
Nicias,"  Laches  admits,  "  for  it  is  nonsense  you 
are  talking." 

The  objection  which  Laches  brings  is  that 
physicians  and  other  professional  men  are  not  a 
whit  more  courageous  for  all  their  knowledge. 

*'  What  do  you  think,  Nicias,"  Socrates  asks, 
"of  what  Laches  says?  There  does  seem  to 
be  something  in  it." 

"  Yes,"  Nicias  replies,  "  something  in  it  there 
is,  but  it  is  not  true."  And  he  proceeds  to  show 
that  the  physician's  knowledge  extends  only  to 
the  disease,  not  to  its  ultimate  effect  upon  his 
patients,  so  that  he  cannot  judge  whether  it  is 
better  for  them  to  die  or  to  get  well.  Not  even 


LACHES.  55 

the  soothsayer  can  decide  this,  nor  indeed  can 
any  one  else,  save  he  who  knows  thoroughly 
what  is  or  is  not  to  be  feared ;  and  he  alone  is 
courageous. 

196  A.  At  this  Laches,  waxing  wroth,  exclaims  :  "  I 
do  not  understand,  Socrates,  what  he  means  to 
say,  unless  it  be  that  the  courageous  man  is  a 
god.12  He  seems  unwilling  frankly  to  acknowl- 
edge that  what  he  says  amounts  to  nothing,  but 
turns  and  twists  about,  in  order  to  conceal  that 
he  is  in  a  quandary.  If  you  and  I  had  wished 
to  avoid  the  appearance  of  contradicting  our- 
selves, we  too  might  have  twisted  about  in  the 
same  way.  Now,  had  we  been  arguing  in  a 
court  of  law,  there  might  have  been  some  sense 
in  such  behaviour ;  but  why  in  such  a  meeting 
as  this  should  any  one  trick  himself  out  to  no 
purpose  with  empty  words?" 

"  I  do  not  think  one  ought,  Laches,"  Socrates 
rejoins.  "But  let  us  see;  perhaps  Nicias  is  not 
merely  talking  for  argument's  sake,  and  does 
mean  something  by  what  he  says.  Let  us  ques- 
tion him  more  closely  as  to  what  he  has  in  mind, 
and  if  there  seems  to  be  anything  in  it,  let  us 
agree  with  him ;  if  not,  let  us  enlighten  him." 

"  Very  well,  Socrates,"  is  the  reply.  "  If  you 
wish  to  question  him,  do  so.  For  my  part,  I 
have  had  enough  of  questioning." 

"  No  trouble  about  that,  for  the  same  ques- 
tioning will  do  for  you  and  for  me."  According 
to  the  definition  of  Nicias,  Socrates  continues, 


56  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN  YOUTHS. 

courage  would  appear  to  be  an  attribute  which  be- 
longs to  no  animal,  not  even  to  a  lion  or  a  bull. 
197       In  great  delight  Laches  exclaims :    "Aye,  by 
the  gods,  Socrates ;   you  are  right  there." 

Nothing  daunted,  Nicias  asks :  "  Do  you  sup- 
pose that  children,  who  by  reason  of  their  ig- 
norance are  afraid  of  nothing,  can  be  called 
courageous?  Nay,  to  me  it  seems  that  fearless- 
ness and  courage  are  not  at  all  the  same  thing. 
Few,  I  imagine,  possess  courage  together  with 
forethought;  while  foolhardiness,  recklessness, 
and  fearlessness  are  the  share  of  many,  men  and 
women  and  children  and  beasts  alike.  Hence 
what  you  and  many  others  call  courage  I  call 
foolhardiness;  only  wise  actions  do  I  count  as 
courageous." 

"  See,  Socrates,"  Laches  cries,  "  how  well  this 
fellow  tricks  out  his  argument,  at  least  in  his 
own  opinion !  Those  whom  all  unite  in  calling 
courageous  he  undertakes  to  defraud  of  this 
honour." 

"  Not  I,  Laches,"  Nicias  replies,  "  never  fear; 
you  I  do  call  wise,  and  Lamachus  too,  —  that  is, 
if  you  are  courageous,  —  and  a  great  many  other 
Athenians  besides." 

"I  might  answer;  but  I  shall  say  nothing, 
that  you  may  not  taunt  me  with  being  a  true 
Aexonian."  13 

"  Answer  nothing  at  all,  Laches,"  Socrates  in- 
terposes ;  "  for  you  have  not  observed,  I  imagine, 
that  he  has  got  this  wisdom  of  his  from  our 


LACHES.  57 

friend  Damon ;  and  Damon  is  forever  with  Pro- 
dicus,  who  of  all  the  Sophists  seems  to  me  best 
at  drawing  word-distinctions  of  this  kind." 

"  And  far  more  fitting  it  is,  Socrates,"  Laches 
replies,  "  for  a  Sophist  to  invent  subtleties  of 
this  kind,  than  for  a  man  whom  the  State  deems 
worthy  to  stand  at  its  head." 

"  Nevertheless,  my  best  of  friends,  it  is  most 
fitting  that  he  to  whom  the  greatest  concerns  are 
confided  should  have  the  greatest  share  of  wis- 
dom ;  and  it  seems  to  me  quite  worth  while  to 
examine  what  Nicias  was  thinking  of  in  defining 
courage  as  he  did." 

"Then  examine  for  yourself,  Socrates,"  is  the 
somewhat  surly  reply. 

"  That  is  just  what  I  intend  doing,  my  excellent 
friend ;  "  and  so,  with  the  warning  that  Laches 
must  stand  ready  to  lend  his  aid,  Socrates  pro- 
ceeds to  show  that  if  courage  included  the  knowl- 
edge ascribed  to  it  by  Nicias,  it  would  embrace 
not  merely  a  part  of  virtue,  but  the  whole  of  it. 

Laches  now  taunts  Nicias  with  the  failure  of 
his  attempt  to  define  courage:] 

Lack.  For  my  part,  my  dear  Nicias,  I  cer- 
:oo  tainly  thought  you  were  going  to  make  the  dis- 
covery, so  contemptuous  were  you  when  I  was 
answering  Socrates.  Great  indeed,  I  may  say, 
was  my  hope  that  you  would  find  it  out  by  the 
help  of  Damon's  wisdom. 

Nic.     It  is  clever  of  you,  Laches,  to  take  no 


58  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

further  account  of  having  just  shown  yourself 
ignorant  in  regard  to  courage,  but  to  be  only  on 
the  lookout  whether  I  also  am  in  the  same  case; 
and  it  is,  I  suppose,  a  matter  of  indifference  to 
you  that  you  and  I  are  equally  ignorant  of  what 
a  man  of  any  pretensions  ought  to  know.  You 
have  acted,  it  seems  to  me,  in  a  truly  human 
fashion,  looking  not  to  yourself  but  to  others. 
It  strikes  me,  however,  that  I  have  now  said  quite 
enough  on  the  subject  in  question ;  and  if  there 
remains  anything  not  sufficiently  explained,  this 
may  be  remedied  later  with  the  help  of  others, 
and  especially  of  Damon,  whom  you  imagine 
yourself  to  have  laughed  down,  although  you 
have  never  even  seen  him.  And  when  I  am 
sure  of  my  own  ground,  I  will  instruct  you  also 
without  grudging,  for  you  seem  to  me  in  great 
need  of  instruction. 

Lack.  How  wise  you  are,  Nicias,  to  be  sure  ! 
But  all  the  same,  when  it  comes  to  the  education 
of  these  lads,  I  advise  my  friend  Lysimachus 
here  and  Melesias,  to  dismiss  you  and  me,  but, 
as  I  said  before,  not  to  let  our  friend  Socrates 
go.  If  my  children  were  of  a  proper  age,  that 
is  what  I  should  do. 

Nic.  Yes,  I  agree  to  that,  and  advise  them 
to  seek  no  further,  if  Socrates  is  willing  to  take 
charge  of  the  lads.  Indeed  I  would  most  gladly 
confide  my  Niceratus  M  to  him,  if  he  would  only 
consent;  but  whenever  I  bring  the  matter  up 
to  him  he  is  sure  to  recommend  some  one  else, 


LACHES.  59 

and  is  not  willing  to  do  anything  himself.  But 
you  might  see,  Lysimachus,  if  he  will  perhaps 
listen  to  you  more  readily. 

Lys.  That  would  be  only  fair  of  him,  Nicias, 
for  I  would  do  for  him  what  I  would  not  for 
many  others.  What  say  you  then,  Socrates? 
Will  you  comply  with  our  wishes  and  unite  to 
help  these  lads  become  as  good  as  possible? 

Soc.  It  would  be  a  dreadful  thing,  Lysimachus, 
not  to  be  willing  to  help  any  one  to  become  better. 
And  so,  if  our  late  conversation  had  proved  that 
I  knew  and  these  two^did  not,  it  would  be  right 
to  urge  me  most  strongly  to  undertake  the  duty; 
but  as  it  is,  we  are  all  in  the  same  perplexity. 
Why  then  should  any  one  of  us  be  chosen  before 
the  other?  To  my  mind,  no  one  deserves  the 
preference.  This  being  the  state  of  the  case, 
201  consider  whether  the  advice  I  am  about  to  give 
you  is  good.  I  declare  to  you,  my  friends,  —  and 
let  no  one  report  it.  outside,  —  that  it  behooves  us 
all  earnestly  to  seek  out  the  best  teacher  we  can 
get,  for  ourselves  first  of  all,  —  for  we  need  him, 
—  and  then  for  the  lads,  sparing  neither  money 
nor  anything  else.  But  to  remain  in  our  present 
condition  I  cannot  advise.  And  if  any  one  makes 
fun  of  us  because  we  think  it  right  at  our  age  to 
go  to  school,  we  must,  I  think,  shield  ourselves 
behind  Homer,  who  says  that  "  shame  ill  be- 
comes a  beggar-man."  And  so,  paying  no  heed 
to  any  one's  remarks,  we  will  make  our  own  edu- 
cation and  that  of  the  lads  our  common  care. 


6O  TALKS   WITH  A  THENIAN  YOUTHS. 

Lys.  What  you  say,  Socrates,  pleases  me. 
And  I  desire  that  as  I  am  the  eldest,  so  I  may 
also  be  the  most  eager  to  learn  with  these  boys. 
Pray  then  do  me  this  favour.  Come  without 
fail  to  my  house  to-morrow  early,  that  we  may 
take  counsel  together  about  these  matters.  But 
for  the  present  we  must  bring  our  interview  to 
a  close. 

Soc.  I  will  do  as  you  wish,  Lysimachus,  and 
to-morrow,  God  willing,  I  will  come. 


EUTHYDEMUS. 


EUTHYDEMUS. 


CHARACTERS. 

SOCRATES,  -who  narrates  to  his  friend  CRITO  a  conversation  in  which 
the  following  persons  take  part :  — 

EUTHYDEMUS,  ) 

>  two  brothers.  Sophists. 

DlONYSODORUS,  ) 

CLEINIAS,  son  of  AXIOCHUS,  a  young  Athenian. 
CTESIPPUS  of  Paeania,  an  admirer  of  CLEINIAS. 

The  scene  is  laid  in  the  Lyceum. 


EUTHYDEMUS. 

271  Crito.  Who  was  it,  Socrates,  whom  you  were 
talking  with  yesterday  in  the  Lyceum?  There 
was  such  a  crowd  around  you  that,  although  I 
tried  to  get  near  enough  to  listen,  I  could  not 
make  out  anything  distinctly.  By  bending  over, 
however,  I  could  look  down  upon  you,  and  it 
seemed  to  me  that  it  was  a  stranger  you  were 
talking  with.  Who  was  he? 

Socrates.  Which  one  are  you  asking  about, 
Crito?  There  were  two  of  them. 

Cri.  The  man  I  mean  was  seated  next  but 
one  from  you  on  the  right;  between  you  was 
the  young  son  of  Axiochus,1  who  seems  to  me, 
Socrates,  to  have  grown  wonderfully,  and  to  be 
not  far  from  the  age  of  our  own  Critobulus. 
But  while  he  is  slight  in  build,  this  lad  is  well 
developed  and  of  fine  presence. 

Soc.  Euthydemus  is  the  man  you  mean, 
Crito ;  and  the  one  seated  on  my  left  was  his 
brother  Dionysodorus,  who  also  took  part  in  the 
conversation.2 

Cri.  I  do  not  know  either  of  them,  Socrates. 
They  are,  I  suppose,  some  more  new  Sophists. 
Where  do  they  come  from,  and  what  branch  of 
wisdom  do  they  profess? 


64  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN  YOUTHS. 

Soc.  By  descent  they  are  from  hereabouts, 
from  Chios,  I  believe,  whence  they  removed  to 
Thurii;3  but  they  were  banished  from  there,  and 
have  been  living  a  number  of  years  now  in  these 
parts.  As  for  their  wisdom  which  you  were 
asking  about,  it  is  marvellous,  Crito,  —  they  are 
simply  all-wise.  For  my  part,  I  never  knew  till 
now  what  the  pancratiasts  really  were.  These  two 
are  ready  for  every  kind  of  contest,  —  and  that 
not  after  the  fashion  of  the  Acarnanians,  the 
pancratiast  brothers,  who  knew  how  to  fight  only 
with  the  body.  In  the  first  place,  they  are  most 
skilful  with  the  body,  and  have  a  superior  mode 
of  fighting,  by  which  they  overcome  all  others ; 
for  they  are  complete  masters  of  the  art  of  fight- 
ing in  armour,  and  able,  moreover,  to  impart  it  to 
272  any  one  else  who  will  pay  them.4  And  secondly, 
they  are  excellent  in  controversies  of  law ;  con- 
tending themselves,  and  teaching  others  to  speak 
and  to  compose  speeches  such  as  are  suitable  for 
courts  of  justice.  Up  to  this  time  they  have  ex- 
celled in  these  branches  alone,  but  now  they  have 
put  the  finishing  touch  to  their  pancratiastic  art. 
The  one  kind  of  combat  which  they  had  hitherto 
left  untried  they  have  now  brought  to  such  per- 
fection that  no  one  is  able  even  to  stand  against 
them,  so  formidable  have  they  become  in  the 
art  of  word-fighting  and  refuting  whatever  state- 
ment is  made,  whether  it  happens  to  be  true  or 
false.  Really,  Crito,  I  have  a  mind  to  put  myself 
into  the  hands  of  these  men ;  for  they  promise 


EUTIIYDEMUS.  65 

that  in   a  short  time   they  will  make  any  one 
whomsoever  skilful  in  these  matters. 

Cri.  Why,  Socrates  !  Are  you  not  afraid  that 
at  your  time  of  life  you  are  too  old  for  that? 

Soc.  Not  in  the  least,  Crito.  I  have  ample 
reason  and  encouragement  for  not  fearing  it. 
For  they  themselves  were,  one  might  say,  old 
men  when  they  first  took  up  this  art  of  disputa- 
tion which  I  covet.  Why,  only  last  year,  or  the 
year  before,  they  had  not  yet  knowledge  of  it ! 
But  one  thing  I  do  fear,  — that  I  may  bring  con- 
tempt upon  these  strangers,  just  as  I  do  upon 
Connus,  the  son  of  Metrobius  the  cithara-player, 
who  is  still  giving  me  lessons  upon  the  cithara. 
For  when  the  boys,  my  fellow-pupils,  see  me 
there,  they  make  fun  of  me  and  dub  Connus 
"  old  man's  teacher."  Now  I  trust  that  no  one 
will  insult  these  two  strangers  in  this  way,  but  I 
dare  say  they  may  fear  it  for  themselves,  and 
be  unwilling  to  receive  me.  And  therefore, 
Crito,  as  I  then  persuaded  certain  old  men  to  go 
with  me  as  fellow-pupils,  so  I  shall  try  to  prevail 
upon  others  now.  And  you, —  why  should  not 
you  make  one  of  us?  We  might  bring  your 
sons  with  us  as  a  bait ;  for  in  the  desire  to  get 
hold  of  them,  they  will,  I  know,  instruct  us 
also. 

Cri.     There  can  be  no  objection,  Socrates,  I 
am  sure,  if  you  wish  it.     But  first,  pray,  give  me 
some  account  of  the  men's  art,  that  I  may  know 
what  it  is  we  are  to  learn  of  them. 
5 


66  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN  YOUTHS. 

Soc.  You  shall  hear  without  delay.  I  cer- 
tainly could  not  plead  inattention  as  an  excuse, 
for  I  did  attend  most  carefully;  and  as  I  remem- 
ber what  they  said,  I  shall  endeavour  to  give  you 
the  whole  story  from  the  beginning. 

By  the  favour  doubtless,  of  some  god,  I  hap- 
pened to  be  seated  alone  in  the  robing-room  just 
where  you  saw  me,  and  I  had  in  mind  to  get  up 
and  go  away,  when,  in  the  very  act  of  rising,5 
there  came  to  me  the  accustomed  divine  sign. 
273  Accordingly  I  sat  down  again,  and  a  little  while 
after  came  in  these  two,  Euthydemus  and  Dio- 
nysodorus,  and  with  them  a  number  of  others, 
—  their  pupils  I  suppose  they  were.  On  enter- 
ing, they  began  to  pace  around  the  covered 
course.  Hardly,  however,  had  they  taken  two  or 
three  turns  when  Cleinias  came  in,  who,  as  you 
rightly  observe,  is  vastly  improved ;  and  in  his 
train  a  great  number  of  admirers,  —  amongst 
them  Ctesippus  the  Paeanian,6  a  young  man  of 
good  natural  parts,  but  with  the  impetuosity 
of  his  years.  Cleinias,  as  he  entered,  seeing 
me  seated  by  myself,  crossed  over  and  sat 
down  at  my  right,  just  where  you  say  he  was. 
When  Dionysodorus  and  Euthydemus  saw  him 
there,  I  observed  —  for  I  was  watching  them 
closely  —  that  they  at  first  stopped  still  and 
talked  together,  casting  every  now  and  then  a 
glance  at  us.  Then  they  drew  near;  and  one  of 
them,  Euthydemus,  took  a  seat  next  the  youth, 
the  other  a  seat  next  me  on  the  left,  while  the 


E  UTHYDEMUS.  6j 

rest  found  places  for  themselves  just  as  it 
chanced.  As  I  had  not  seen  them  for  some 
time,  I  saluted  them,  and  then,  turning  to 
Cleinias, — 

"  You  must  know,  Cleinias,"  I  said,  "  that  these 
two  men,  Euthydemus  and  Dionysodorus,  are 
skilled  in  matters  not  of  trifling,  but  of  most 
serious  import.  They  understand  everything 
that  has  to  do  with  war ;  all  that  a  man  who  is 
to  be  a  leader  need  know  about  the  disposition 
and  conduct  of  armies,  and  all  about  fighting  in 
armour.  And  they  can,  moreover,  make  him 
capable  of  defending  himself  in  the  courts  of 
justice,  if  any  one  does  him  an  injury." 

These  words  drew  upon  me  their  contempt. 
Glancing  at  each  other  they  burst  out  laughing, 
and  Euthydemus  said,  — 

"  We  no  longer  care  for  that  kind  of  thing, 
Socrates ;  we  only  use  it  incidentally." 

Wondering  at  this,  I  said,  — 

"  Grand,  indeed,  must  be  your  chief  pursuit,  if 
such  as  this  is  only  incidental !  In  the  name  of 
the  gods,  then,  tell  me  what  is  this  grand  pur- 
suit of  yours?  " 

"  Virtue,  Socrates,"  he  replied ;  "  and  this  we 
believe  ourselves  capable  of  imparting  more 
speedily  and  effectually  than  any  other  man."  7 

44  Oh,  Zeus !  "  I  exclaimed,  "  what  a  wonderful 
thing  is  this !  Where  did  you  discover  such  a 
treasure?  As  I  said  just  now,  I  have  always 
supposed  the  art  you  had  mastered  was  that  of 


68  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

fighting  in  armour;  and  this  is  what  I  have 
said  of  you,  remembering  that  when  you  first 
stayed  here  it  was  what  you  professed.  But 
if  you  really  possess  this  other  knowledge,  then 
take  pity  on  me.  I  call  upon  you  even  as  upon 
gods,  and  entreat  your  forgiveness  for  what  I 
274  have  said  of  you  heretofore.  But  see  to  it, 
Euthydemus  and  Dionysodorus,  that  you  are 
saying  what  is  true,  for  your  promise  is  so 
great  that  there  is  no  wonder  it  is  questioned." 

"  You  may  rest  assured,  Socrates,"  they  an- 
swered, "that  all  is  as  we  have  said." 

"  Then  I  count  you  far  happier  with  this  pos- 
session of  yours  than  is  the  great  King  with 
his  kingdom.  But  tell  me,  do  you  intend  to 
exhibit  this  knowledge,  or  what  do  you  intend 
to  do?" 

"  Why  this,  Socrates,  is  the  very  reason  we  are 
here,  —  to  exhibit  it,  and  to  impart  it,  if  any  one 
wishes  to  learn  of  us." 

"  Well,  I  give  you  my  word  that  all  who  do 
not  possess  it  will  wish  to  do  so,  myself  to  begin 
with,  then  Cleinias  here,  and  beside  us,  Ctesip- 
pus  and  all  the  rest  of  the  company." 

Thus  I  spoke,  pointing  to  the  admirers  of  Clei- 
nias, who  by  this  time  were  gathered  around  us. 
Now  Ctesippus,  as  it  chanced,  had  been  seated 
at  some  distance  from  Cleinias,  so  that  whenever 
in  talking  with  me  Euthydemus  happened  to 
lean  forward,  Cleinias,  who  was  placed  between 
us  two,  was  hidden  from  the  sight  of  Ctesippus. 


EUTHYDEMUS.  69 

He,  therefore,  being  anxious  to  see  his  favourite 
and  to  hear  at  the  same  time,  was  the  first  to 
jump  up  and  place  himself  directly  opposite  us; 
on  seeing  which,  the  others  also  gathered  around 
us,  —  the  admirers  of  Cleinias,  and  the  followers 
of  Euthydemus  and  Dionysodorus  as  well.  And 
these  it  was  whom  I  pointed  out  to  Euthydemus, 
when  I  said  that  they  were  all  ready  to  be  in- 
structed. To  this  Ctesippus  and  the  others  gave 
eager  assent,  all  with  one  voice  urging  them  to 
show  what  their  art  could  do. 

Then  I  said,  — 

"  I  hope,  on  every  account,  Euthydemus  and 
Dionysodorus,  that  you  will  do  this  company 
and  myself  the  favour  of  giving  us  an  exhibition. 
To  do  it  in  full  would  of  course  be  no  slight 
task;  but  at  least  tell  me  whether  you  would  be 
able  to  make  him  alone  a  virtuous  man  who 
already  believes  it  is  his  duty  to  learn  of  you, 
or  him  also  who  is  not  yet  convinced  of  this, 
because  he  disbelieves  the  whole  thing,  —  either 
that  virtue  can  be  taught  or  that  you  are  teachers 
of  it.  Tell  me,  is  it  the  business  of  this  particular 
art  or  of  some  other,  to  convince  one  of  this  mind 
that  virtue  may  be  taught,  and  that  you  are  the 
men  from  whom  it  may  best  be  learned?  " 

"  Certainly,  Socrates,"  Dionysodorus  replied, 
"  it  is  the  business  of  this  particular  art." 

"  So  then,  Dionysodorus,"  said  I,  "  you  two,  of 
/5  all  living  men,  can  best  turn  others  toward  phi- 
losophy and  the  cultivation  of  virtue?" 


7O  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN  YOUTHS. 

"  Yes,  Socrates  ;  at  least  we  ourselves  think  so." 

"  Pray,  then,"  said  I,  "  put  off  to  another  time 
your  exhibition  for  other  cases,  and  show  us  now 
what  you  can  do  for  this  particular  one.  Con- 
vince this  lad  here  that  it  is  his  duty  to  follow 
philosophy  and  cultivate  virtue,  and  you  will  be 
doing  a  favour  to  me  and  all  the  others  For 
the  fact  in  regard  to  this  youth  is  that  we  are 
most  anxious,  I  and  all  the  rest  of  us,  to  have 
him  grow  up  the  best  of  men.  He  is  the  son  of 
Axiochus,  and  thus  grandson  of  Alcibiades  the 
elder  and  own  cousin  to  the  present  Alcibiades, 
—  Cleinias  is  his  name.  He  is  young  still,  and 
we  are  fearful,  as  we  may  well  be  considering  his 
age,  lest  some  one  get  ahead  of  us,  and,  by  turn- 
ing his  mind  to  some  other  pursuit,  bring  about 
his  ruin;  so  that  you  have  come  most  oppor- 
tunely. Pray,  then,  if  you  have  no  objection, 
make  trial  of  the  boy,  and  let  your  conversation 
be  held  before  us." 

After  I  had  spoken  pretty  nearly  these  words, 
Euthydemus  began  in  a  brisk  and  even  confident 
way. 

"  Of  course,  Socrates,"  said  he,  "  we  have  no 
objection,  if  only  the  young  man  himself  is  will- 
ing to  answer." 

"  Oh,  as  to  that,"  I  replied,  "  he  is  well  accus- 
tomed to  it.  These  friends  of  his  are  in  the 
habit  of  coming  and  asking  him  all  manner  of 
questions,  and  arguing  with  him ;  so  that  he  is 
fairly  confident  about  answering." 


EUTHYDEMUS.  fl 

And  now,  Crito,  how  shall  I  fitly  describe  to 
you  what  followed?  It  is  no  light  task  to  take 
up  in  detail  a  wisdom  which  is,  so  to  speak,  in- 
finite. It  behooves  me,  even  as  the  poets,  to 
begin  my  narration  by  invoking  Memory  and 
the  Muses.  Euthydemus,  so  far  as  I  can  recol- 
lect, began  in  some  such  way  as  this,  — 

"  To  what  class  of  men,  Cleinias,  do  they  be- 
long who  learn,  — to  the  wise  or  the  ignorant?  " 

Taken  aback  by  the  vastness  of  the  question, 
the  young  fellow  blushed  and  looked  at  me ;  and 
I,  perceiving  that  he  was  in  trouble,  — 

"  Take  heart,  Cleinias,"  I  said,  "  and  answer 
boldly  just  which  you  think,  for  in  that  way  you 
will  probably  derive  the  greatest  benefit." 

Hereupon  Dionysodorus,  his  face  wearing  a 
broad  smile,  bent  over  and  said  softly  in  my 
ear,— 

"  I  tell  you  beforehand,  Socrates,  and  do  you 
mark  my  words,  that  whatever  the  boy  answers 
he  is  sure  to  be  refuted." 

While  he  was  speaking,  Cleinias  was  giving  his 
answer,  so  that  I  did  not  have  a  chance  to  bid 
276  the  lad  be  on  his  guard,  and  he  answered  that 
they  who  learn  are  the  wise ;  whereupon  Euthy- 
demus asked, — 

"  Are  there  such  people  as  teachers,  or  are 
there  not? " 

He  assented. 

"  And  teachers  are  the  teachers  of  those  who 
learn,  are  they  not,  just  as  the  cithara-playcr  and 


72  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

the  writing-master  were  your  teachers  and  those 
of  other  boys,  and  you  their  pupils?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  replied. 

"  And  at  the  time  you  were  learning,  you  did 
not  yet  know  the  things  you  were  learning,  did 
you?" 

"No,"  he  said. 

"  But  were  you  wise,  if  you  did  not  know 
them?" 

"  Of  course  not,"  he  said. 

"  Then  if  not  wise,  you  were  ignorant?  " 

"  Very  ignorant." 

"  So  then,  learning  what  you  did  not  know, 
you  were  ignorant  when  you  were  learning." 

The  lad  nodded  assent. 

"  Thus,  Cleinias,  it  is  the  ignorant  who  learn, 
not  the  wise,  as  you  suppose."  8 

Hardly  had  he  spoken  thus,  when,  for  all  the 
world  like  a  chorus  which  has  had  its  cue  from 
the  trainer,  the  followers  of  Euthydemus  and 
Dionysodorus  began  with  one  accord  to  laugh  and 
cheer;  and  before  the  lad  had  fully  recovered 
his  breath,  Dionysodorus  took  up  the  argument. 

"  Tell  me,  Cleinias,"  he  said,  uwhen  the  read- 
ing-master used  to  dictate  to  you,  which  of  the 
boys  would  learn  the  dictation,  —  the  wise  or  the 
ignorant? " 

"  The  wise,"  Cleinias  answered. 

"  Then  it  is  the  wise  who  learn,  not  the  igno- 
rant, and  the  answer  you  gave  Euthydemus  just 


EUTHYDEMUS.  73 

Then  again  there  was  great  laughter  and  ap- 
plause from  the  two  men's  admirers,  who  were 
enraptured  at  their  cleverness,  while  the  rest  of 
us,  amazed,  held  our  peace.  Euthydemus,  how- 
ever, perceiving  our  amazement  arid  anxious  to 
win  yet  more  admiration,  did  not  let  the  lad  go 
but  went  on  questioning  him,  and,  like  some  nim- 
ble dancer,  gave  the  question  a  double  turn  upon 
itself  and  asked,  — 

"What  is  it  that  learners  learn, — what  they 
know  or  what  they  do  not  know?  " 

Here  Dionysodorus  again  whispered  softly  to 
me,  — 

"  This,  Socrates,  is  just  such  another  question 
as  the  one  before." 

"  Heavens  !  "  I  exclaimed  ;  "  and  your  last 
question  seemed  so  brilliant." 

"  All  that  we  ask,  Socrates,"  he  rejoined, 
"  are  of  the  same  sort,  admitting  of  no  possible 
escape." 

"  This  is  the  reason,  I  suppose,"  said  I, 
"  that  you  have  such  a  reputation  among  your 
followers." 

In  the  mean  time  Cleinias  had  answered  that 
learners  learn  what  they  do  not  know,  and  Euthy- 
demus was  putting  him  through  the  same  kind  of 
277  questioning  as  before. 

"  Tell  me  this,"  he  said.  "  You  know  your 
letters,  do  you  not?" 

"  Yes,"  he  answered. 

"All  of  them,  I  suppose?" 


74  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN  YOUTHS. 

He  admitted  that  he  did. 

"  And  when  any  one  dictates,  no  matter  what 
it  be,  does  he  not  dictate  letters?  " 

He  admitted  it. 

"  But  if  you  know  them  all,  he  is  dictating  what 
you  already  knew,  is  he  not?" 

This  too  he  admitted. 

"How  now?"  said  he;  "surely  it  is  not  you 
who  learn  what  is  dictated,  but  he  who  does  not 
know  letters." 

"Not  so,"  he  answered ;   "  it  is  I  who  learn." 

"  But  since  you  know  all  the  letters,  you  are 
only  learning  what  you  know." 

He  confessed  that  it  was  so. 

"  Therefore,"  said  he,  "  you  have  not  answered 
correctly." 

Hardly  had  Euthydemus  thus  spoken,  when 
Dionysodorus,  taking  up  the  argument  as  if  it 
were  a  ball,  aimed  another  throw  at  the  lad,  and 
said,  — 

".Euthydemus  is  playing  a  trick  upon  you, 
Cletnias.  Tell  me  this :  To  learn  is  to  ac- 
quire knowledge  of  whatever  one  learns,  is  it 
not?" 

Cleinias  assented. 

"  And  what  is  to  know,  but  already  to  have 
knowledge?" 

He  assented. 

"  Or  not  to  know,  but  not  yet  to  have  knowl- 
edge?" 

He  agreed  to  that. 


EUTHYDEMUS. 


75 


"And  are  they  who  acquire  anything  those 
who  have  it  already,  or  those  who  do  not 
have  it?" 

"  Those  who  do  not  have  it." 

"  But  have  you  not  admitted  that  they  who  do 
not  know  belong  to  those  who  as  yet  do  not 
have?" 

He  nodded  assent. 

"  And  they  who  learn  belong  to  those  who 
acquire,  not  to  those  who  already  have?" 

This  he  acknowledged. 

"  And  so,  Cleinias,  it  is  they  that  do  not  know 
who  learn,  not  they  that  know." 

And  now  for  the  third  time  Euthydemus  was 
about  to  bear  down  upon  the  lad  for  another 
bout,  when,  perceiving  that  the  young  fellow 
was  out  of  his  depth,  and  wishing  to  let  him 
rest  awhile  and  not  get  disheartened,  I  said 
encouragingly,  — 

"  You  must  not  be  surprised,  Cleinias,  if 
this  talk  seems  to  you  strange.  Very  likely 
you  do  not  perceive  that  these  strangers  are 
doing  to  you  just  what  is  done  in  the  initia- 
tion rites  of  the  Corybantes,9  at  the  enthrone- 
ment of  him  whom  they  are  about  to  initiate. 
On  that  occasion  there  is  dancing  and  frol- 
icking, as  you  must  know,  if  you  have  ever 
been  initiated.  And  so  now  these  two  are 
merely  dancing,  and,  as  it  were,  gambolling 
playfully  about  you,  by  way  of  prelude  to  your 
initiation." 


76  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN  YOUTHS. 

[277  £.-282  D.  Socrates  now  shows  that  confusion 
has  arisen  from  using  the  word  "  learning,"  once 
in  its  sense  of  the  acquisition  of  knowledge, 
and  again  in  the  sense  of  knowledge  already  ac- 
quired. The  horse-play  of  the  brothers  is  com- 
pared to  the  action  of  one  who,  when  a  man  is 
about  to  seat  himself,  suddenly  withdraws  the 
chair  from  under  him  and  laughs  in  glee  to  see 
him  tumble  over  backward.  Assuming  that  they 
have  now  had  their  fill  of  this  kind  of  amuse- 
ment, he  proceeds,  with  many  apologies  for  his 
own  lack  of  skill,  to  set  them  an  example  of 
serious  questioning  by  means  of  which  the  fol- 
lowing conclusions  are  reached. 

Happiness,  the  object  of  all  men's  desire,  comes 
from  the  possession  of  good  things,  whether  ex- 
ternal gifts  or  moral  qualities,  such  as  courage, 
justice,  and  the  like.  But  since  only  by  right 
use  do  these  possessions  become  a  good  and  not 
an  evil  fortune,  wisdom,  which  alone  ensures 
their  right  use,  must  prove  the  truest  blessing, 
as  ignorance  is  in  reality  the  only  evil.  Cleinias, 
on  declaring  his  belief  that  wisdom  does  not 
come  unsought,  but  must  be  acquired,  is  ear- 
nestly exhorted  by  Socrates  to  apply  himself  to 
the  quest  of  it,  and  replies  with  like  earnestness  :] 

"  Indeed,  Socrates,  I  will  do  my  best." 
And  I,  delighted  to  hear  this,  — 
"  Here,  Dionysodorus  and  Euthydemus,"  I  said, 
"is  my  example  of  what  I  think  an  exhortation 


EUTHYDEMUS.  77 


ought  to  be,  though  unskilful,  I  dare  say,  and  ex- 
pressed laboriously  with  many  words.  And  now 
let  one  of  you,  whichever  pleases,  go  over  the 
same  ground  in  a  scientific  manner;  or  if  you 
do  not  care  for  this,  begin  where  I  left  off  and 
show  the  lad  in  due  sequence  whether  he  must 
needs  acquire  every  kind  of  knowledge,  or  whether 
there  is  but  one  kind  which  a  man  need  acquire 
in  order  to  be  good  and  happy,  and  what  that  is. 
For,  as  I  said  in  the  beginning,  we  have  it  much 
at  heart  that  the  lad  should  become  a  wise  and  a 
good  man." 

283  Thus,  Crito,  did  I  speak,  and,  all  eagerness  to 
know  what  was  to  follow,  I  watched  to  see  how 
they  would  take  hold  of  the  subject,  and  whence 
start  in  their  exhortations  to  the  practice  of  wis- 
dom and  virtue.  The  elder  of  the  two,  Diony- 
sodorus,  had  the  first  word  ;  and  upon  him  we 
all  fixed  our  gaze,  expecting  to  hear  something 
wonderful.  And  this,  in  fact,  was  our  good  for- 
tune, for  a  wonderful  discourse  it  certainly  was, 
Crito,  which  the  man  began,  and  one  well  worth 
your  hearing,  so  stimulating  was  it  to  the  pursuit 
of  virtue. 

"  Tell  me,  Socrates,"  he  began,  "  you  and  the 
rest  who  say  that  you  want  this  youth  to  become 
a  wise  man,  —  do  you  speak  in  jest,  or  do  you 
really  wish  it  in  good  earnest?  " 

From  this  I  inferred  that  they  had  all  along 
supposed  us  to  be  in  jest  when  we  urged  them  to 
converse  with  the  lad,  and  that  this  was  why  they 


78  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN  YOUTHS. 

too  had  jested  and  had  not  treated  it  seriously. 
With  this  thought  I  said,  in  a  still  more  decided 
way,  that  we  were  exceedingly  in  earnest.  There- 
upon Dionysodorus,  — 

"  Look  to  it,  Socrates,"  he  said,  "  that  you  do 
not  come  to  deny  what  you  now  assert." 

"  I  have  looked  to  it,"  I  said,  "  and  shall  never 
deny  it." 

"Well,  what  is  it  you  say?"  he  asked,  "that 
you  wish  him  to  become  wise?" 

"  That  I  do." 

"  Very  well ;  which  is  Cleinias  now,  wise  or 
not?" 

"  He  himself  says  not,  but  then  he  is  no 
braggart." 

"  And  you,"  he  said,  "  wish  him  to  become 
wise,  and  not  ignorant?  " 

We  owned  that  we  did. 

"  Then  that  which  he  is  not  you  wish  him  to 
become,  and  to  be  no  longer  that  which  he  is 
now?" 

I  was  disconcerted  at  this ;  and  he,  taking  ad- 
vantage of  my  discomfiture,  added,  — 

"  In  wishing  him  to  be  no  longer  that  which  he 
is  now,  what  are  you  wishing  but  his  destruction? 
Fine  friends  and  admirers,  indeed,  are  those  who 
would  do  everything  to  bring  their  favourite  to 
destruction  !  " 

At  this,  Ctesippus,  moved  to  anger  on  his 
favourite's  account,  cried  out,  — 

"  Stranger  of  Thurii,   if  it  were    not  too  ill- 


EUTHYDEMUS.  79 

bred  to  speak  thus,  I  should  say,  '  On  your 
head  be  the  evil ! ' 10  What  are  you  thinking  of 
in  falsely  accusing  me  and  the  others  of  a 
thing  which  it  seems  to  me  impious  even  to 
utter;  namely,  that  I  could  wish  to  bring  him 
to  destruction?" 

[283  £.-284  E.  Euthydemus  replies  to  this  sally  by 
denying  the  possibility  of  speaking  falsely.  That 
which  has  no  existence,  he  argues,  is  not,  and 
cannot  therefore  be  spoken  of.  But  that  which 
has  existence  is ;  and  he  who  says  what  is,  speaks 
the  truth. 

Still  further  incensed  by  this  specious  reason- 
ing, Ctesippus  aims  a  pointed  thrust  at  Dionyso- 
dorus,  who  forthwith  exclaims:] 

"  You  insult  me,  Ctesippus,  you  insult  me  !  " 

"  Not  I,  by  Zeus  !  "  he  answered.  "  On  the 
contrary,  I  have  a  regard  for  you.  I  am  only 
warning  you  as  a  friend,  and  endeavouring  to  per- 
suade you  never  again  in  my  presence  to  say  so 
ill-mannered  a  thing  as  that  I  wish  to  ruin  those 
285  whom  I  hold  most  dear." 

Here,  thinking  that  they  were  getting  too  rude 
to  one  another,  I  began  to  rally  Ctesippus. 

"  It  strikes  me,  Ctesippus,"  I  said,  "  that  we 
ought  to  accept  from  the  strangers  whatever  they 
are  kind  enough  to  give  us,  and  not  have  dis- 
putes about  a  word.  For  if  they  know  the  art 
of  so  utterly  destroying  people  as  to  turn  them 


80  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN  YOUTHS. 

from  bad  and  foolish  men  into  good  and  sensible 
ones,  —  whether  they  have  found  out  for  them- 
selves or  have  learned  from  some  one  else  this 
kind  of  ruin  and  destruction  matters  not,  —  if,  I 
say,  they  know  how  to  effect  this  (and  it  is  evi- 
dent that  they  do,  for  they  certainly  spoke  of 
their  newly  discovered  art  of  making  good  men 
out  of  bad),  why  we  will  allow  them.  Let  them 
destroy  the  lad  for  us  and  make  him  wise,  and 
all  the  rest  of  us  as  well.  If,  however,  you  younger 
ones  are  afraid,  then  let  the  danger  be  upon  my 
head,  as  if  I  were  a  Carian.11  For  being  an  old 
man,  I  am  ready  to  make  the  venture ;  and  so  I 
offer  myself  up  to  this  Dionysodorus,  as  it  might 
be  to  Medea  the  Colchian.  Let  him  destroy,  yea, 
boil  me,  if  he  likes  ;  let  him,  in  short,  do  whatever 
he  pleases,  if  only  he  turns  me  out  a  good  man." 

"  I  too,  Socrates,"  said  Ctesippus,  "  am  ready 
to  give  myself  up  to  the  strangers,  and  let  them 
flay  me,  if  they  wish,  even  more  severely  than 
they  have  done  already,  if  only  my  skin  may  find 
its  end,  not  like  that  of  Marsyas,  in  a  wine-bottle, 
but  in  virtue.  Now  Dionysodorus  imagines  that 
I  am  angry  with  him,  whereas  I  am  not  angry, 
but  only  contradict  things  that  he  says  against 
me  which  I  do  not  think  are  right.  But  I  must 
beg  of  you,  most  noble  Dionysodorus,  not  to  call 
contradiction  insult;  for  insult  is  quite  a  different 
thing." 

"  Are  you  speaking  of  contradiction,  Ctesip- 
pus," Dionysodorus  asked,  "  as  a  real  thing?  " 


EUTHYDEMUS.  8 1 

"  Of  course  I  am,"  he  answered ;  "  most  em- 
phatically so.  And  you,  Dionysodorus,  do  you 
not  believe  in  contradiction?  " 

"  I  defy  you,"  he  said,  "  to  prove  that  you  ever 
heard  one  person  contradict  another." 

"  Very  good,"  he  said  ;  "  we  shall  soon  see  if  I 
cannot  show  you  that  Ctesippus  can  contradict 
Dionysodorus." 

[285  E.-2QO  E.  In  spite  of  this  boast,  the  sophistry 
of  his  opponent  soon  reduces  Ctesippus  to  si- 
lence. But  Socrates,  throwing  himself  into  the 
breach,  speedily  proves  that  even  the  Sophist's 
art,  "  all  amazing  "  as  it  is,  has  not  taught  him 
the  art  of  throwing  another  without  falling  him- 
self. By  this  time  Ctesippus  has  regained  his 
usual  confidence,  and  exclaims: 

288  B.  "  Wonderful  talk  is  this  of  yours,  men  of 
Thurii  or  Chios,  or  wherever  else  you  come  from, 
and  whatever  you  may  be  pleased  to  be  called ! 
You  stop  at  no  nonsense." 

Here  Socrates,  fearful  lest  further  insults  should 
follow,  calms  Ctesippus  by  saying,  — 

"  I  tell  you,  Ctesippus,  what  I  told  Cleinias 
just  now,  —  that  you  have  no  conception  of  how 
wonderful  is  the  wisdom  of  these  strangers.  Till 
now  they  have  been  unwilling  to  exhibit  to  us 
in  good  earnest,  but,  after  the  example  of  Pro- 
teus the  Egyptian  Sophist,12  have  been  casting 
their  spells  upon  us.  Let  us  therefore,  after  the 
example  of  Menelaus,  not  let  the  men  go  until 
6 


82  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN  YOUTHS. 

they  have  shown  us  what  is  their  real  aim ;  for  it 
is  my  belief  that  when  they  once  begin  in  good 
earnest,  they  will  reveal  something  of  surpassing 
beauty.  Let  us,  then,  pray  and  beseech  them 
to  show  this  forth.  And  I  think  that  I  will  give 
them  once  more  an  example  of  the  way  in 
which  I  pray  them  to  reveal  themselves  to  me. 
I  will  begin,  then,  from  where  I  left  off,  and  for 
their  sakes  will  do  my  best  to  go  through  the  re- 
mainder in  due  order,  hoping  so  to  excite  their 
pity  and  compassion  at  the  sight  of  my  efforts 
and  my  earnestness,  that  they  too  may  show 
themselves  in  earnest." 

Philosophy,  or  the  study  of  wisdom,  has 
been  found  to  be  the  acquisition  of  knowledge. 
What  then  is  the  special  knowledge  which  'will 
bring  us  happiness,  by  enabling  us  to  use  to 
the  greatest  advantage  the  good  that  is  within 
us?  Among  the  various  arts  proposed  to  this 
end  is  the  composition  of  speeches.  But  this, 
as  Cleinias  shrewdly  remarks,  cannot  make  us 
happy,  since  "  there  are  some  speech-makers 
who  do  not  know  how  to  use  the  very  speeches 
they  compose."  "  I  had  certainly  supposed," 
Socrates  ironically  asserts,  "  that  knowledge, 
which  we  have  been  so  long  seeking,  would 
have  been  found  in  this  quarter.  For  these 
men,  Cleinias,  —  the  speech-makers,  —  whenever 
I  come  across  them,  appear  to  me  excessively 
wise,  and  this  very  art  of  theirs  is  something 
lofty  and  inspired.  And  indeed,  no  wonder;  for 


E  UTHYDEMUS.  8  3 

it  is  a  branch  of  the  art  of  enchantment,  and 
but  little  inferior  to  it.  The  one  consists  in  the 
charming  of  snakes  and  spiders  and  scorpions 
and  other  beasts  and  nuisances ;  the  other  in  the 
charming  and  persuading  of  jurors  and  assem- 
blies, and  other  bodies  of  men."  He  then  pro- 
poses the  general's  art,  which  is,  however,  rejected 
by  Cleinias  on  the  ground  that,  instead  of  using 
and  improving  his  spoils,  the  general  delivers 
them  over  to  the  statesman  just  as  the  huntsman 
hands  over  his  prey  to  the  cook. 

Amazed  at  the  perspicacity  displayed  by 
Cleinias,  Crito  here  interrupts  the  narrative  by 
exclaiming:] 

290  E.      Cri.      What    are    you     saying,    Socrates? 
Did  the  boy  speak  like  that? 

Soc.     Do  you  not  believe  it,  Crito? 

Cri.  No,  by  Zeus,  I  do  not !  for  I  am  thinking 
that  if  he  talked  thus,  he  needed  neither  Euthy- 
demus  nor  any  one  else  to  teach  him. 

Soc.  Nay,  by  Zeus !  perhaps  I  have  not  re- 
membered aright,  and  Ctesippus  was  the  one 
who  said  it.13 

291  Cri.     Ctesippus,  indeed ! 

Soc.  Well,  this  much,  at  all  events,  I  am  sure 
of:  it  was  neither  Euthydemus  nor  Dionysodorus. 
But  may  it  not  be,  my  good  Crito,  that  some  one 
there  who  was  superior  to  them  said  it?  For 
that  I  heard  the  words  I  am  positive. 

Cri.      Aye,    by    Zeus,    Socrates,    some    one 


84  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN  YOUTHS. 

who  I  should  think  was  their  superior  indeed, 
and  very  much  so !  But  what  art  did  you  seek 
after  this;  and  did  you  discover,  or  not,  that 
which  you  were  in  search  of? 

Soc.  Discover  it,  my  friend?  No,  but  we 
made  ourselves  very  ridiculous.  Like  children 
in  pursuit  of  larks,  we  were  always  fancying  we 
had  got  hold  of  the  several  kinds  of  knowledge, 
and  they  were  always  slipping  away  from  us. 

[291  B.-292  E.  The  kingly  or  political  art  is  now 
tried,  but  proves  no  less  inadequate  than  the  pre- 
ceding ones.  Here  Crito  a  second  time  breaks 
in  upon  the  narrative.] 

Cri.  By  Zeus,  Socrates,  you  do  seem  to 
have  got  into  a  quandary. 

Soc.  Seeing,  then,  Crito,  that  I  had  fallen  into 
293  such  extremity,  I  sent  forth  my  whole  voice  in 
supplication  to  the  strangers,  calling  upon  them, 
as  upon  the  Dioscuri,14  to  rescue  us  —  myself  and 
the  lad  as  well  —  from  the  triple  wave  of  the 
discussion,  and  to  be  by  all  means  serious,  and 
to  show  us  in  good  earnest  what  that  knowledge 
was  through  the  attainment  of  which  we  might 
live  the  rest  of  our  life  in  the  right  way. 

[293  A. -303  A.  The  narrative  is  now  resumed.  In 
"haughty  language,"  Euthydemus  asks  whether 
Socrates  prefers  to  be  instructed  in  this  knowl- 
edge, or  to  have  it  proved  that  it  is  already  his. 


EUTHYDEMUS.  8$ 

"  Why,  my  good  fellow,"  asks  Socrates,  "  does 
it  lie  with  you  to  do  this?  " 

"  Certainly,"  is  the  reply. 

"  Then  by  Zeus,"  Socrates  cries,  "  prove  that 
it  is  mine.  For  to  a  man  of  my  years,  this  is 
far  easier  than  getting  it  by  study." 

Thus  urged,  Euthydemus  proceeds  with  the 
following  sequence :  — 

"  Do  you  know  anything? 

"  If  you  do,  you  have  knowledge. 

"  If  you  have  knowledge,  you  know  all  things." 

"  But,"  Socrates  remonstrates,  "  there  are  many 
things  which  I  do  not  know." 

"  Then  you  have  not  knowledge,  as  just  now 
you  said  you  had." 

Following  out  their  theory  that  they  who  know 
one  thing  must  know  all,  the  two  brothers  now 
claim  for  themselves  a  knowledge  not  only  of  all 
the  various  arts,  which  are  in  turn  enumerated  by 
Ctesippus,  but  of  all  things  else.  '  Boldly  facing 
every  question,'  we  are  told,  '  they  rushed  on, 
like  wild  boars,  to  meet  the  blow.'  The  refusal 
of  Socrates  to  follow  their  example  and  confess 
what  he  does  not  understand  brings  upon  him 
the  taunt  of  Euthydemus  that  he  is  "  an  old  fogy 
and  in  his  dotage." 

295  D.  '  Now  I  knew,'  Socrates  explains,  '  that  he 
was  angry  with  me  for  exacting  of  him  pre- 
cise statements,  when  he  had  thought  to  catch 
me  in  a  network  of  words.  And  I  remembered 
Connus,  and  how  angry  he  used  to  get  with  me 


86  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

every  time  that  I  would  not  give  in  to  him,  and 
how  he  afterwards  took  less  interest  in  me  and 
set  me  down  as  a  dullard.  Therefore,  as  I 
was  minded  to  study  with  him,  I  bethought  me 
that  I  had  better  yield  the  point,  for  fear  that 
he  might  think  me  a  fool  and  not  receive  me 
as  pupil.  So  I  said, — 

"  '  Why,  of  course,  Euthydemus,  you  must  do 
as  you  think  best;  for  you,  who  possess  the  art, 
understand  how  to  talk  far  better  than  I  who 
have  no  knowledge  of  it.  Pray,  then,  ques- 
tion me  again  from  the  beginning.' " 

The  declaration  of  Euthydemus  that  Socrates 
does  know  and  has  always  known  all  things, 
"  when  a  child,  and  when  he  was  born,  and  when 
he  was  begotten,  and  even  before  his  birth,  and 
before  heaven  and  earth  were,"  gives  rise  to 
the  inquiry  where  he  can  have  learned  such  a 
thing  as  that  good  men  are  unjust.  "  No- 
where," Dionysodorus  exclaims,  and  is  forth- 
with reproached  by  his  brother  for  "  spoiling 
the  argument."  Amid  the  blushes  of  the  cul- 
prit, Socrates  exclaims,  — 

297  A.  "  What  do  you  mean,  Euthydemus?  Do 
you  not  think  that  your  brother,  who  knows  all 
things,  has  spoken  correctly?  " 

Quickly  catching  at  this  cue,  — 

"  Am  I,  then,"  begins  Dionysodorus,  "  the 
brother  of  Euthydemus?" 

"  Let  that  alone,  my  good  fellow,"  Socrates 
rejoins,  "  at  least  until  Euthydemus  shall  have 


EUTHYDEMUS.  S/ 

taught  me  that  I  know  good  men  to  be  unjust. 
Do  not,  pray,  grudge  my  learning  this." 

"  You  are  trying  to  run  away,  Socrates,"  is  the 
retort,  "  and  are  refusing  to  answer." 

"  Naturally  enough,"  Socrates  admits  ;  "  for 
since  I  am  inferior  to  either  one  of  you  singly,  it 
were  strange,  indeed,  if  I  did  not  run  away  from 
the  two  of  you.  I  am  of  course  a  mere  weakling 
by  the  side  of  Heracles,  and  even  he  was  not  able 
to  fight  both  against  the  hydra  (a  she-sophist, 
who  through  her  sophist  art  could,  if  one  head 
of  her  argument  were  cut  off,  shoot  out  many 
more  in  place  of  it),  and  the  crab  beside,  —  a 
certain  other  sophist  who  had,  I  believe,  just 
come  sailing  in  from  the  sea.  When  therefore, 
with  tongue  and  teeth,  this  creature  began  to 
harass  him  on  the  left  side,  he  called  for  help 
upon  his  nephew  lolaus,  and  he  indeed  abun- 
dantly supplied  it;  whereas  if  Patrocles,  who  is 
my  lolaus,  were  to  come,  he  would  only  make 
matters  worse."  15 

This  allusion  to  relationships  leads  to  the  fol- 
lowing propositions  :  "  If  a  man  is  a  father,  he  can- 
not be  other  than  a  father.  .  .  .  But  if  he  be  not 
father  to  every  man,  he  is  other  than  a  father, 
and  cannot  be  yours.  .  .  .  Thus  you,  Socrates, 
are  without  a  father."  Then  follow  a  succes- 
sion of  quibbles,  one  leading  to  another,  not  by 
any  natural  connection  of  ideas,  but  by  some 
chance  word  taken  advantage  of  by  one  or  other 
of  the  brothers.  Ctesippus,  excited,  as  Socrates 


88  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

slyly  conjectures,  by  the  presence  of  his  favour- 
ite, now  begins  to  try  his  hand  at  the  same  game, 
and  by  proposing  two  alternatives,  neither  of 
which  is  tenable,  succeeds  in  placing  Euthyde- 
mus  between  the  horns  of  a  dilemma.  Again 
Dionysodorus,  more  zealous  than  discreet,  takes 
the  words  from  his  brother's  mouth,  exclaiming 
triumphantly,  — 

300  D.  "  Neither  and  both !  There,  I  know  well 
enough  you  can  make  nothing  out  of  that 
answer." 

*  Here/  goes  on  the  narrative,  '  Ctesippus,  as 
was  his  custom,  burst  out  into  a  loud  laugh, 
exclaiming,'  — 

"  Oh,  Euthydemus,  this  brother  of  yours  has 
given  two  answers  to  one  question.  He  is 
worsted  and  undone  !  " 

'  This  delighted  Cleinias,  and  he  laughed  so 
heartily  that  Ctesippus  became  ten  times  more 
turbulent  than  before.' 

'  I  have  my  suspicion,  however,'  Socrates  re- 
marks, '  that  our  sly  rogue  of  a  Ctesippus  had 
stolen  this  saying  of  his  from  the  brothers  them- 
selves, for  nowhere  else  among  men  is  cleverness 
of  this  sort  to  be  found.' 

"  And  why,  Ctesippus,"  Socrates  now  asks,  "  do 
you  laugh  at  things  so  serious  and  beautiful?" 

"  Have  you,  then,  Socrates,"  inquires  Diony- 
sodorus, "  ever  beheld  a  beautiful  thing?" 

"  Indeed  I  have,"  is  the  reply;  "  and  many  of 
them  too." 


EUTHYDEMUS.  89 

301       "  Were  they  distinct  from  beauty,  or  identical 
with  it?" 

'  Then,  indeed/  Socrates  confesses,  '  did  I 
find  myself  in  the  extreme  of  perplexity,  and 
methought  I  had  got  my  deserts  for  having 
ventured  to  speak  above  my  breath.  I  said, 
however,  that  they  were  distinct  from  beauty, 
but  that  beauty  was  to  a  certain  extent  present 
with  each  one.' 

"  Then  if  an  ox  is  present  with  you,  are  you  an 
ox ;  and  because  I  am  present  with  you,  are  you 
Dionysodorus? " 

After  further  absurdities,  the  proposition  is 
finally  reached  and  assented  to  by  Socrates,  that 
every  man  has  a  right  to  do  as  he  pleases  with 
his  own.  Whereupon  Dionysodorus,  '  after  a 
long  pause,  during  which  he  pretended  to  be 
pondering  some  grave  matter,'  asks,  — 
302  B.  "  Tell  me,  Socrates,  have  you  an  ancestral 
Zeus?"16 

Socrates  foresees  what  is  coming,  and  after 
'twisting  about  as  if  caught  in  a  net/  replies  that 
he  has  not,  inasmuch  as  the  ancestral  god  of 
Athens  is  Apollo,  father  of  Ion  the  founder 
of  the  Ionian  race.  But  his  subsequent  admis- 
sion that  Zeus  and  Athene  are  guardians  of  the 
phratriae  is  enough  for  Dionysodorus. 

"  These  gods  then,"  he  cries,  "  are  yours ;  and 
having  life  they  are  animals ;  and  therefore,  like 
any  other  of  our  possessions,  they  may  be  given 
away  or  sold  or  offered  in  sacrifice.] 


90  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

303  A.  Hereupon,  Crito,  struck  dumb  as  it  were 
by  the  argument,  I  remained  speechless ;  but 
Ctesippus,  advancing  to  my  rescue,  cried,  - 

"  Bravo,  Heracles  !  noble  words  are  these  !  " 
With  this,  — 

"Is  Heracles  bravo?"  asked  Dionysodorus, 
"or  is  bravo  Heracles?" 

"  Oh,  Poseidon !  "  exclaimed  Ctesippus, 
"  what  clever  talk !  I  give  up.  These  two  are 
invincible." 

Then,  indeed,  dear  Crito,  there  was  not  one 
of  the  company  present  who  did  not  praise 
extravagantly  both  the  argument  and  the  men 
themselves,  insomuch  that  they  were  nearly  over- 
powered by  the  laughter  and  applause  and  merri- 
ment. For  up  to  this  time  it  was  only  the 
admirers  of  Euthydemus  who  had,  at  each  hit, 
made  such  an  uproar;  but  now  the  very  pillars 
of  the  Lyceum  seemed  to  join  in  the  din,  and  to 
rejoice  over  the  pair.  For  myself,  I  was  brought 
to  such  a  state  that  I  had  to  confess  I  had  never 
before  laid  eyes  upon  men  so  wise;  and,  quite 
spellbound  by  their  wisdom,  I  fell  to  praising 
and  congratulating  them. 

"  Happy  are  you  two,"  I  said,  "  who  are  so 
wonderfully  gifted  by  nature  as  to  have  wrought 
with  such  ease  and  speed  so  great  a  work.  Your 
discourses,  Euthydemus  and  Dionysodorus,  are 
filled  with  beauties  many  and  varied  ;  but  the  most 
sublime  part  of  all  is  that  you  care  nothing  for 
the  generality  of  men,  nor  even  for  those  who 


EUTHYDEMUS.  QI 

are  revered  and  held  in  high  esteem,  but  only 
for  those  who  are  like  yourselves.  For  I  know 
well  that  there  are  very  few  who,  like  you,  would. 
be  satisfied  with  these  arguments;  in  fact,  such 
is  the  opinion  which  most  men  have  of  them, 
that  they  would,  I  am  quite  sure,  be  more 
ashamed  to  use  such  arguments  in  refuting  other 
men,  than  to  be  themselves  refuted  by  them. 
And  there  is  this,  moreover,  that  is  kind  and 
friendly  about  your  arguments.  When  you  say 
that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  the  beautiful,  or 
the  good,  or  white,  or  anything  else  of  the 
sort,  —  in  fact  no  difference  at  all  between  one 
thing  and  another,  — you  do,  as  you  say,  effectu- 
ally stop  men's  mouths ;  and  not  other  men's 
only,  but  your  own  apparently  as  well,  which 
makes  the  thing  charming  and  deprives  your 
words  of  harshness.  But,  best  of  all,  so  skilful 
and  admirable  is  this  invention  of  yours  that 
there  is  no  one  who  in  a  very  short  time  may 
not  also  acquire  the  art,  as  in  the  case  of  Cte- 
sippus,  who,  I  observed,  was  very  soon  able  to 
304  imitate  you  off-hand.  Now  this  feature  of  it, 
the  being  able  to  impart  it  quickly,  is  all  very 
fine,  but  it  is  really  not  for  your  own  interest  to 
discourse  in  public ;  and,  if  you  take  my  advice, 
you  will  be  careful  not  to  talk  before  many 
people,  lest  what  they  learn  so  quickly  they 
give  you  no  thanks  for.  Rather  do  you  two 
converse  together  by  yourselves  ;  or  if  before 
any  one  else  at  all,  let  it  be  only  before  one 


92  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

who  will  pay  you  for  it.  And  if  you  are  wise, 
you  will  advise  your  followers  also  never  to  talk 
before  any  one  else  besides  you  and  themselves. 
For  that  which  is  scarce,  Euthydemus,  is  valu- 
able ;  and  water,  for  all  it  be,  according  to  Pin- 
dar, the  best  thing,  is  also  the  cheapest.17  But 
come,  do  not  forget  that  you  are  to  receive 
myself  and  Cleinias  here,  as  your  pupils." 

And  so,  Crito,  having  exchanged  these  words 
and  a  few  others,  we  went  our  ways.  It  is  for 
you  now  to  consider  in  what  spirit  you  will  ap- 
proach these  men,  since  they  declare  themselves 
able  to  teach  any  one  who  is  willing  to  pay  for 
it,  without  any  exception  of  age  or  of  character. 
But  what  it  particularly  concerns  you  to  hear  is 
their  assertion  that  not  even  the  pursuit  of 
making  money  need  prevent  or  hinder  any 
one  whomsoever  from  readily  acquiring  their 
wisdom.18 

Cri.  I  suspect,  Socrates,  that,  fond  as  I  am 
of  listening  and  delighted  as  I  am  to  learn,  I 
belong  not  to  those  who  are  like  Euthydemus, 
but  to  those  who  you  say  prefer  to  be  refuted 
by  such  arguments  rather  than  to  refute  with  the 
help  of  them.  And  though  it  seems  ridiculous 
for  me  to  be  admonishing  you,  still  I  do  want  to 
tell  you  a  thing  that  has  come  to  my  ears.  You 
must  know,  then,  that  as  I  was  walking  .up  and 
down,  I  was  joined  by  a  man  who  had  just  come 
away  from  the  group  around  you,  —  a  man  who 


EUTHYDEMUS.  93 

thinks  himself  exceedingly  wise,  one  of  those 
clever  writers  of  speeches  for  the  law  courts. 
"  Well,  Crito,"  he  asked,  "  are  you  not  listening  to 
these  wise  men?  "  "  No,  by  Zeus  !  "  I  answered ; 
"  for  where  I  was  standing  I  could  not  hear  a 
word,  on  account  of  the  crowd."  "  That  is  a  pity," 
he  said,  "  for  it  was  worth  hearing."  "  How  do  you 
mean?  "  "  You  would  have  heard  the  conversa- 
tion of  men  who  are  the  most  skilful  of  our  day 
in  talk  of  that  kind."  "  And  what,"  I  asked,  "  did 
they  prove  to  you  ?  "  "  What,  indeed,  but  the 
kind  of  thing  one  might  always  hear  from  men 
who  talk  nonsense  and  bestow  unworthy  pains 
upon  a  worthless  object !  "  These  were  about 
the  words  he  used.  "  But  still,"  said  I,  "  philoso- 
phy is  a  pleasing  thing."  "  Pleasing,  indeed,  my 
good  fellow?  It  amounts  to  nothing  at  all;  and 
305  had  you  been  there,  you  would,  I  think,  have 
been  very  much  ashamed  of  your  friend,  so 
preposterous  was  his  conduct  in  giving  himself 
up  to  men  who  take  no  thought  as  to  what 
they  themselves  mean,  and  yet  are  sticklers  for 
every  word.  And  these,  as  I  said  just  now, 
are  among  the  best  of  our  day !  But,  indeed, 
Crito,"  he  added,  "  the  thing  itself,  and  the  men 
who  practise  it,  are  alike  contemptible  and 
absurd." 

Now,  I  thought  to  myself,  Socrates,  that 
neither  this  man  nor  any  one  else  was  right 
in  blaming  the  thing  itself;  but  your  willing- 
ness to  discuss  with  such  men  as  these  before  a 


94  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

number   of  people,  it   seemed   to    me   that   he 
might  justly  find  fault  with. 

[305  B.-3O6  D.  Without  noticing  the  reproach, 
Socrates  explains  that  this  man  of  the  law 
courts  is  one  of  a  class  who  regard  philoso- 
phers in  the  light  of  rivals  and  disputants  of  their 
own  rightful  claim  to  supremacy.  "  Nor  is  it 
unnatural,"  he  adds  ironically,  "  that  they  should 
look  upon  themselves  as  wise;  for  to  have  a 
fair  share  of  philosophy,  and  a  fair  amount  of 
political  knowledge  as  well,  is  a  very  sensible 
thing ;  that  is,  if  they  possess  just  enough  of  each 
to  keep  clear  of  risks  and  conflicts,  and  to  reap 
the  advantages  of  their  own  wisdom."  Such  a 
notion  as  this  is  *  more  plausible  than  truthful,' 
and  they  who  hold  it  are  blind  to  the  fact  that  to 
aim  at  a  mean  between  two  good  things  is  to  fail 
of  attaining  either,  and  that  while  they  wish  to 
stand  first  they  are  in  reality  only  third.  '  In 
this  position,  midway  between  philosophy  and 
politics/  they  imagine  themselves  to  be  at  the 
head  of  each,  whereas  their  knowledge  is  in 
reality  of  the  most  superficial  kind.19] 

Cri.  Well,  Socrates,  as  I  am  always  telling 
you,  I  am  in  great  perplexity  in  regard  to  my 
sons,  and  what  I  ought  to  do  with  them.  The 
younger  one,  to  be  sure,  is  still  small,  but  Crito- 
bulus  is  already  of  an  age  to  need  some  one  who 
will  be  of  help  to  him.  So  often  as  I  come  under 


EUTHYDEMUS.  95 

your  influence  I  deem  it  sheer  madness  to  have 
taken  so  much  trouble  on  my  children's  account, 
making  such  a  marriage  as  to  ensure  their  being 
of  noble  descent,  and  seeking  a  fortune  so  as  to 
enrich  them, —  and  yet  to  have  taken  no  thought 
for  their  education.  But  when,  on  the  other 
hand,  I  see  any  of  the  men  who  profess  to  teach 
others,  I  am  confounded,  and  when  I  come  to 
307  examine  them,  they  seem  to  me,  one  and  all,  to 
tell  you  the  truth,  perfect  monstrosities  ;  so  that  I 
know  not  how  I  can  encourage  the  lad  to  follow 
philosophy. 

Soc.  My  dear  Crito,  do  you  not  know  that  in 
every  profession  there  are  many  who  are  incom- 
petent and  who  count  for  little,  while  they  who 
excel  are  few  and  of  priceless  worth?  Why, 
do  you  not  regard  the  arts  of  gymnastics  and 
money-making  and  public  speaking  and  general- 
ship as  noble  pursuits? 

Cri.     Yes,  most  certainly  I  do. 

Soc.  Well,  but  do  you  not  see  that  in  every 
one  of  these  the  greater  number  are  absurdly 
deficient  in  their  performance? 

Cri.  Aye,  by  Zeus !  what  you  say  is  most 
true. 

Soc.  And  would  you,  for  this  reason,  shun  all 
these  pursuits  yourself,  and  not  let  your  son 
follow  them? 

Cri.     That  would  not  be  right,  Socrates. 

Soc.  Then  do  not  you,  Crito,  act  wrongly, 
but,  dismissing  the  question  whether  they  who 


96  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN  YOUTHS. 

follow  philosophy  are  good  or  bad,  put  phi- 
losophy herself  to  a  high  and  thorough  test; 
and  if  she  proves  herself  to  you  a  poor  thing, 
turn  from  her  not  your  sons  alone,  but  all  other 
men  beside.  If  on  the  other  hand  she  proves 
herself  what  I  myself  believe  that  she  is,  then 
follow  her  rejoicing,  and  serve  her,  as  the  saying 
goes,  yourself  and  your  children. 


THEAETETUS. 


•  THEAETETUS. 

CHARACTERS. 

>  whose  conversation  leads  to  a  reading  of  the  dialogue. 
TERPSION,  ) 

SOCRATES. 

THEAETETUS,  a  young  Athenian. 

THEODORUS  of  Cyrene,  a  geometrician,  teac/ierofTnE\ETETVS. 

The  scene  opens  in  front  of  EUCLID'S  house  in  Megara,  where 
EUCLID  and  TERPSION  meet.  The  reading  of  the  dialogiie  takes  place 
within  the  house. 


THEAETETUS. 

Euclid.  Just  arrived,  Terpsion,  or  are  you 
long  in  from  the  country? 

Terpsion.  Tolerably  long.  And  you  —  I  was 
looking  for  you  in  the  Agora,1  and  wondering 
that  I  did  not  find  you  there. 

Euc.     But  I  was  not  in  the  city. 

Terp.     Where  then  ? 

Euc.  On  my  way  down  to  the  harbour,  I  met 
Theaetetus,  who  was  being  carried  to  Athens 
from  the  camp  before  Corinth.2 

Terp.     Alive  or  deacl? 

Euc.  Alive,  but  barely  so;  for  not  only  does 
it  go  hard  with  him  from  his  wounds,  but,  what  is 
worse,  the  disease  which  has  broken  out  in  the 
army  is  upon  him. 

Terp.     Surely  not  the  dysentery ! 

Euc.     Yes. 

Terp.  What  a  man  is  this  who  you  say  is  in 
danger! 

Euc.  A  true  and  gallant  one  indeed,  Terp- 
sion !  Only  just  now  I  heard  great  praises  of 
his  behaviour  in  the  battle. 

Terp.  That  is  not  strange;  on  the  contrary, 
it  would  have  been  more  surprising  if  you  had 
not  heard  them.  But  how  comes  it  that  he  did 
not  stop  here  at  Megara? 


IOO  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

Euc.  He  was  bent  upon  getting  home.  I  en- 
treated him,  you  may  be  sure,  and  advised  him 
to  stay,  but  he  would  not.  And  I  may  tell  you 
that,  on  my  way  back  from  escorting  him,  I  re- 
membered the  words  of  Socrates,  and  marvelled 
at  the  prophetic  insight  shown  by  him  in  this  as 
in  other  matters.  It  was,  I  think,  shortly  before 
his  own  death  that  he  met  Theaetetus,  —  then 
a  mere  stripling,  —  and  was  greatly  impressed 
by  his  natural  ability,  after  they  had  been  to- 
gether and  conversed  awhile.  And  when  I  came 
to  Athens,  he  repeated  to  me  the  conversation  he 
had  had  with  him,  —  and  well  worth  hearing  it 
was,  —  and  declared  that  Theaetetus  would  un- 
doubtedly make  a  name  for  himself,  if  he  lived 
to  reach  man's  estate. 

Terp.  And  he  spoke  the  truth,  it  seems.  But 
what  was  the  conversation?  Could  you  manage 
to  repeat  it? 

Euc.  No,  by  Zeus  ;  at  least  not  thus  from  mem- 
143  ory.  But  as  soon  as  I  got  home  I  made  notes, 
and  afterward  as,  at  my  leisure,  I  recalled  more 
I  would  write  it  out.  Then,  whenever  I  went  to 
Athens,  I  used  to  ask  Socrates  what  I  had  not 
been  able  to  recollect,  and  to  set  it  right  upon 
my  return ;  so  that  I  have  nearly  the  whole  con- 
versation written  out. 

Terp.  True.  I  have  heard  you  mention  this 
before ;  in  fact,  I  have  always  intended  asking 
you  to  show  it  me,  but  have  put  off  doing  so  till 
this  moment.  But  is  there  any  reason  why  we 


THEAETETUS.  IOI 

should  not  go  over  it  now?  For  my  part  I  am 
really  in  need  of  rest,  having  walked  in  from  the 
country. 

Euc.  Why,  I  myself  escorted  Theaetetus  as  far 
as  Erineum ;  3  so  that  I  should  not  be  sorry  to 
rest,  either.  Suppose  we  go  in  ;  and  as  we  take 
our  ease,  the  boy  shall  read  aloud  to  us. 

Terp.     A  good  suggestion.4 

Euc.  Here  you  have  the  scroll,  Terpsion.  I 
must  tell  you  that  I  wrote  down  the  conversation, 
not  as  if  it  were  being  related  to  me  by  Socrates, 
which  was  actually  the  case,  but  as  if  he  were 
speaking  to  those  with  whom  he  said  he  had 
talked,  —  Theodorus  the  geometrician,5  and  our 
Theaetetus.  And,  to  avoid  the  troublesome 
connecting  links  between  the  parts  of  the  dia- 
logue, —  as  when  for  instance  Socrates  says  of 
himself,  "  I  then  said,"  or  "  I  remarked,"  or 
again  of  the  person  answering,  that  "  he  agreed," 
or  "  here  he  refused  assent,"  -  -  I  have  set  every- 
thing down  as  if  he  were  actually  talking  with 
them,  and  have  struck  out  all  the  rest. 

Terp.  That  is  not  at  all  out  of  the  way, 
Euclid. 

Euc.     Well,  boy,  take  the  scroll  and  read. 

The  servant  of  Euclid  reads. 

Socrates.  If  I  had  the  affairs  of  Cyrene  more 
at  heart,  Theodorus,  I  should  question  you  in  re- 
gard to  men  and  matters  there,  —  whether  any  of 


IO2  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

the  youths  are  turning  their  attention  to  geome- 
try or  to  any  other  study.  But  as  it  is,  I  care  less 
for  those  youths  than  for  our  own,  and  am  far 
more  concerned  to  know  which  of  our  young  men 
are  likely  to  make  a  name  for  themselves ;  so 
that  I  am  on  the  lookout  myself,  as  far  as  may 
be,  and  am  always  questioning  others  when  I  ob- 
serve that  young  men  like  their  society.  Now 
not  a  few  of  them  are  followers  of  yours,  and 
rightly  too,  such  is  your  reputation  for  knowl- 
edge on  all  subjects,  especially  geometry.  So  if 
you  have  come  across  any  one  worth  the  men- 
tion, I  should  be  glad  to  know  of  it. 

Theodorus.  Yes,  Socrates,  I  have  come  across 
a  certain  youth,  one  of  your  fellow-citizens,  who 
does  indeed  deserve  being  brought  to  your  no- 
tice. Really,  if  he  were  handsome  I  should  be 
afraid  to  speak  as  strongly  as  I  feel,  lest  it  might 
be  supposed  I  were  in  love  with  him.  But  in 
point  of  fact,  —  now  don't  be  angry  with  me  !  — 
he  is  not  handsome,  but  is  very  like  you  in  the 
flatness  of  his  nose  and  the  setting  of  his  eyes, 
although  this  is  less  marked  in  him  than  in  you  ;  6 
and  so  I  may  speak  without  fear.  You  must 
144  know,  then,  that  of  all  the  people  I  have  ever  met, 
—  and  I  have  associated  with  many,  —  I  never 
found  any  one  so  marvellously  endowed  by  na- 
ture. The  ease  with  which  he  acquires  what  is 
difficult  to  others,  his  peculiar  gentleness,  and, 
to  crown  all,  his  surpassing  courage,  —  such  a 
combination  I  should  not  have  supposed  pos- 


THEAE  TE  TVS.  1 03 

sible,  nor  do  I  know  of  any  similar  one.7  For 
they  who,  like  him,  are  keen  and  quick-witted 
and  have  a  strong  memory  are  also  for  the  most 
part  quickly  moved  to  anger,  and  are  unresist- 
ingly swept  along  as  ships  without  ballast,  being 
more  like  madmen  than  men  of  courage;  while 
they  who  have  more  poise  bring  to  their  studies 
a  sluggish  spirit,  and  are  weighted  with  forget- 
fulness.  Whereas  so  calmly  and  steadily  and 
effectually  does  he  set  about  his  studies  and 
investigations,  and  so  quietly  withal,  —  like  the 
noiseless  flow  of  a  stream  of  oil,  —  that  it  is  mar- 
vellous how  one  of  his  age  can  accomplish  all 
this  as  he  does. 

Soc.  You  give  us  good  news ;  and  which  of 
our  citizens  is  his  father? 

Theod.  I  have  heard  the  name,  but  I  do  not 
remember  it.  However,  the  youth  himself  is  one 
of  those  just  entering  over  there,  —  the  one  in 
the  middle.  He  and  some  of  his  companions 
were  just  anointing  themselves  in  the  outer 
race-course,8  but  they  seem  now  to  have  finished 
and  to  be  coming  this  way.  See  if  you  know 
him. 

Soc.  Yes,  I  know  him.  He  is  the  son  of 
Euphronius  of  Sunium,  who  was  just  such  a 
man,  my  friend,  as  you  describe  this  youth  to  be, 
and  universally  esteemed,  and  who  also,  now  I 
think  of  it,  left  a  large  property.  But  the  young 
fellow's  name  I  do  not  know. 

Theod.     Theaetetus    is    his    name,    Socrates. 


104  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN  YOUTHS. 

The  property,  I  believe,  certain  guardians  of  his 
have  made  away  with ;  but  for  all  that,  Socrates, 
he  is  remarkable  for  his  liberality,  with  money 
as  well  as  in  other  matters. 

Soc.  As  you  describe  him  he  is  a  noble  fel- 
low. Pray  bid  him  come  here  and  sit  down 
by  me. 

Thcod.  That  I  will.  Theaetetus,  come  here 
and  sit  by  Socrates.9 

Soc.  Yes,  Theaetetus,  pray  do,  that  I  may 
gaze  upon  myself  and  see  what  manner  of  face  I 
have ;  for  Theodorus  tells  me  that  mine  is  like 
yours. 

[Socrates  and  Theaetetus  soon  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  since  Theodorus  is  no  painter, 
his  opinion  as  to  likeness  or  unlikeness  of  face 
does  not  deserve  much  attention.] 

145  B.  Soc.  But  how  if  it  were  the  mind  of  one 
of  us  two  that  he  was  praising  for  virtue  and  wis- 
dom? Would  it  not  be  right  for  the  one  eagerly 
to  study  him  who  is  praised,  and  for  the  other 
with  equal  eagerness  to  exhibit  himself? 

Theaet.     By  all  means,  Socrates. 

Soc.  This  then,  dear  Theaetetus,  is  the  mo- 
ment for"  you  to  exhibit,  and  for  me  to  observe 
you ;  for  you  must  know  that  although  Theo- 
dorus has  praised  many  a  man  to  me,  both 
stranger  and  citizen,  he  has  never  yet  praised 
any  one  as  he  did  you  just  now. 


THEAETETUS.  1 05 

Theaet.  It  is  pleasant  to  hear  that,  Socrates ; 
but  have  a  care  !  He  may  have  been  joking. 

Soc.  That  is  not  in  character  with  Theodorus. 
So  pray  do  not  draw  back  from  your  agree- 
ment, under  the  pretext  that  he  was  in  joke,  or 
he  himself  will  be  forced  to  bear  me  witness,  and 
his  word  no  one  will  ever  call  in  question.  No, 
you  had  better  stand  boldly  by  the  agreement. 

Theaet.    Well,  I  suppose  I  must,  if  you  wish  it. 

[Socrates  now  bespeaks  the  aid  of  Theaetetus 
and  the  rest  of  the  company  in  the  solution  of 
what  he  calls  a  "  little  matter  of  perplexity," 
and  introduces  it  as  follows:] 

Soc.  Here,  then,  is  the  question  that  I  am 
puzzled  about  and  cannot  by  myself  fully  grasp : 
What  is  knowledge1?  Is  it  a  thing  possible 
146  to  define?  What  say  you?  Which  of  us  will 
speak  first?  Whichever  of  us  misses,  and 
whenever  he  misses,  shall,  as  the  children  say 
when  they  play  at  ball,  sit  down  a  donkey. 
But  he  who  comes  off  victorious,  without  once 
missing,  shall  be  king  over  us,  and  shall  give  out 
whatever  question  he  pleases.  —  Why  are  you 
silent?  I  trust,  Theodorus,  that  my  fondness 
for  argument  has  not  led  me  to  commit  any 
rudeness,  in  my  anxiety  that  we  should  all  take 
part  in  the  conversation  and  become  friendly 
and  familiar  together. 

Theod.     No  indeed,  Socrates,  such  a  wish  is 


106  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

far  from  rude ;  but  pray  bid  one  of  the  younger 
ones  answer  you.  For  I  have  no  experience  in 
debate  of  this  kind,  and,  moreover,  am  not  of  an 
age  to  accustom  myself  to  it ;  whereas  it  would 
suit  them  and  they  would  make  much  better 
progress,  for  youth  is  capable  of  progress  in 
everything.  And  so,  having  begun  with  Theae- 
tetus,  do  not  let  him  off,  but  go  on  questioning 
him. 

Soc.  Well,  Theaetetus,  you  hear  what  Theo- 
dorus  says,  whom  I  imagine  you  would  be  loath 
to  disobey;  nor  indeed  is  it  right  for  one  who 
is  so  much  younger  to  disobey  the  commands 
of  a  man  experienced  in  matters  of  this  kind. 
Speak  out  then  frankly  and  fearlessly.  What 
do  you  understand  by  knowledge? 

Theaet.  Well,  Socrates,  since  you  both  bid 
me  answer,  I  suppose  I  must.  And  of  course  if 
I  make  a  false  step  you  will  set  me  right. 

Soc.     Certainly  we  shall,  —  that  is,  if  we  can. 

[146  €.-148  B.  Theaetetus  begins  by  enumerat- 
ing the  different  arts  and  sciences,  but  is  cut 
short  by  the  reminder  of  Socrates  that  a  general 
notion  of  knowledge  itself,  not  the  various  appli- 
cations thereof,  is  the  object  of  their  search.  He 
then  bethinks  him  of  a  certain  geometrical  gen- 
eralization worked  out  recently  by  himself  and 
his  friend,  the  younger  Socrates.  This  he  pro- 
ceeds to  give,  much  to  the  admiration  of  his 
hearer,  who  exclaims:] 


THEAETETUS.  IO/ 

Soc.  Capital,  my  boys  !  No  one  could  have 
done  better!  Small  danger  now  that  Theodorus 
will  be  accused  of  bearing  false  witness  ! 

Theaet.  But  I  assure  you,  Socrates,  that  I  could 
never  answer  your  question  about  knowledge,  as 
I  did  that  about  linear  measurement  and  square 
root,  and  yet  it  is,  I  imagine,  something  of  this 
kind  that  you  are  looking  for.  And  thus  again 
it  looks,  as  if  Theodorus  were  a  deceiver. 

Soc.  How  so?  Suppose  he  had  praised  your 
running,  and  declared  that  he  had  never  met  a 
youth  who  was  such  a  swift  runner ;  and  suppose 
you  were  afterward  worsted  in  a  race  by  one  who, 
besides  being  swift,  was  in  the  prime  of  life,  — 
would  his  praise,  think  you,  be  any  the  less  true? 

Theaet.     No,  I  do  not  think  it  would. 

Soc.  And  do  you  think  that  knowledge  is,  as 
I  said  just  now,  a  slight  thing  to  be  discovered, 
and  not  one  of  the  loftiest  of  all  things  in  the 
world  ? 

Theaet.  Nay,  by  Zeus,  I  think  it  is ;  one  of 
the  very  loftiest. 

Soc.  Take  heart,  then,  about  yourself,  and  be- 
lieve that  Theodorus  is  right,  and  strive  in  every 
way  to  apprehend  the  true  nature  of  knowledge, 
and  of  all  other  things. 

Theaet.  If  it  is  only  a  question  of  striving, 
Socrates,  it  shall  be  brought  to  light 

Soc.  Come,  then  :  you  gave  a  capital  example 
just  now.  Taking  pattern  by  the  answer  you 
gave  about  square  roots,  endeavour,  as  you 


108  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN  YOUTHS. 

brought  all  these,  many  as  they  are,  under  one 
head,  to  include  in  the  same  way  the  many  forms 
of  knowledge  under  one  name. 

TJicaet.  But  you  must  know,  Socrates,  that 
many  a  time,  when  I  have  heard  questions  re- 
peated of  your  asking,  I  have  tried  to  do  this 
very  thing.  I  cannot  convince  myself,  however, 
that  I  have  any  satisfactory  statement  to  make, 
nor  have  I  heard  anybody  else  make  such  a 
one  as  you  call  for ;  and  yet  I  cannot  get  rid 
of  my  concern  about  it. 

Soc.  That  is  because  you  are  in  travail,  dear 
Theaetetus,  and  your  mind  is  big  with  thought. 

Thcaet.  I  do  not  know  how  that  is,  Socrates. 
I  only  tell  you  how  I  feel. 

149  Soc.  Can  it  be,  my  simple  friend,  that  you 
have  never  heard  me  spoken  of  as  the  son  of 
a  midwife,  strong  and  sturdy,  Phaenarete  by 
name? 

Theaet.     Why,  yes,  this  I  have  heard. 

Soc.  And  that  I  practise  the  same  art,  — 
have  you  heard  this  too? 

Theaet.     No,  never. 

Soc.  Know  then  that  I  do.  But  do  not,  I  beg 
of  you,  betray  me  to  others,  for  they,  my  friend, 
are  not  aware  that  I  possess  the  art;  and  not 
knowing  it,  they  do  not  say  this  of  me,  but  what 
they  do  say  is  that  I  am  the  strangest  of  mortals, 
and  that  I  bring  men  to  their  wits'  end.10  This 
you  have  heard,  have  you  not? 

Theaet.     Yes,  I  have. 


THEAETETUS.  109 

[149  B.-T5O  C.  In  the  well-known  passage  which 
follows,  Socrates  brings  out  various  points  of 
resemblance  between  his  mother's  profession  and 
his  own  office  of  helping  men  to  evolve  their 
own  thoughts.] 

Soc.  Now  I  am  certainly  not  especially  wise 
myself,  nor  has  any  discovery  been  born  to  me,  as 
the  offspring  of  my  own  mind.  But  it  is  neverthe- 
less true  of  those  who  come  to  me,  that  although 
at  the  outset  some  of  them  show  themselves 
ignorant,  and  even  surprisingly  so,  yet  as  our  in- 
tercourse goes  on,  they  all  —  those  at  least  to 
whom  the  god  is  favourable  —  make  the  most 
amazing  progress  ;  and  this  not  only  in  their  own 
opinion  but  in  that  of  others  as  well.  And  it  is 
as  clear  as  day  that  what  they  have  learned  was 
never  of  my  teaching,  but  that  they  have  discov- 
ered of  themselves  the  many  noble  truths  which 
they  attain,  although  for  the  bringing  of  them 
forth  the  god  and  I  myself  are  responsible.  .  .  . 
151  D.  Go  back,  then,  Theaetetus,  to  the  beginning, 
and  try  to  define  what  knowledge  is.  And  never 
once  admit  that  you  are  not  able.  For  if  God 
be  favourable,  and  you  show  a  manful  spirit,  you 
will  be  able, 

Theaet.  Indeed,  Socrates,  after  such  an  ex- 
hortation from  you,  it  would  be  shameful  if  one 
did  not  use  every  effort  to  speak  out  that  which 
is  within  him.  Well,  it  seems  to  me  that  he 
who  knows  anything  perceives  the  thing  that  he 


I  10  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN  YOUTHS. 

knows ;  and  therefore  knowledge,  so  far  as  I  can 
at  present  see,  is  nothing  else  than  perception.11 

Soc.     Well  and  nobly  said,  my  boy !     That  is 
the  right  way  to  speak  out  your  thoughts. 

[151  D.-I55  C.  Further  examination  shows  that  in 
identifying  knowledge  with  perception,  or  the 
transitory  and  changing  impression  produced  by 
objects,  Theaetetus  is  in  accord  with  Protagoras, 
Heraclitus,  Empedocles,12  and  indeed  all  the 
other  philosophers,  save  Parmenides.  The  fa- 
mous maxim  of  Protagoras,  "  Man  is  the  measure 
of  all  things;  as  they  seem  to  him,  so  they  are," 
is  but  one  with  the  theory  of  Heraclitus,  that 
"  nothing  in  reality  exists,  but  is  ever  becoming." 
And  even  Homer  expresses  the  same  idea  when 
he  sings  of  "  Ocean,  creator  of  gods  and  Tethys 
the  mother,"  meaning  thereby  that  all  things  are 
engendered  by  flux  and  motion.  But  the  theory, 
although  apparently  borne  out  by  many  phe- 
nomena in  physical  and  mental  life,  does  yet 
abound  in  extraordinary  contradictions :  if,  for 
example,  taking  six  dice,  we  compare  them  with 
four  others,  their  number  is  increased;  if  with 
twelve,  it  is  diminished.  "  Suppose  then,"  Soc- 
rates continues,  "  that  Protagoras  or  any  one 
else  were  to  ask  you,  '  Is  there  anything,  Theae- 
tetus, that  grows  larger  or  smaller  except  by 
growth?'  what  would  you  answer?" 

154  C.  "  If  my  answer,  Socrates,  is  to  agree  with 
the  present  form  of  the  question,  I  should  say 


THEAETETUS.  Iu 

'  no ;  '  if  I  am  to  take  care  not  to  contradict  my 
former  answer,  '  yes.'  " 

"  Well  spoken,  by  Hera,  my  friend,  and  even 
divinely.  But  yet  if  you  do  reply  '  yes,'  you  will 
find  yourself  in  the  same  case  with  Euripides : 
'  The  tongue  will  be  convinced,  but  not  the 
mind.' " 13 

"  I  assume,  Theaetetus,"  Socrates  adds,  after 
amplifying  this  and  similar  contradictions,  "  that 
you  follow  me,  for  you  seem  to  me  not  unfa- 
miliar with  questions  of  this  kind."] 

Theaet.  Yes,  and  by  the  gods,  Socrates, 
I  do  wonder  exceedingly  what  it  all  means. 
Sometimes,  indeed,  when  I  contemplate  these 
things,  I  turn  positively  giddy. 

Soc.  It  is  evident,  my  friend,  that  Theodorus 
made  no  bad  guess  as  to  your  character.  For 
this  very  thing  —  wonder  —  is  an  affection  pe- 
culiar to  the  philosophic  mind.  In  truth,  phi- 
losophy has  no  beginning  save  this;  and  he 
who  said  that  Iris  was  the  offspring  of  won- 
der proved  himself,  methinks,  no  bad  hand  at 
tracing  pedigree.14  But  do  you  now  under- 
stand why  these  things  are  the  result  of  what 
we  call  the  doctrine  of  Protagoras,  or  do  you 
not  as  yet? 

Theaet.     Not  yet,  I  think. 

Soc.  Well,  will  you  be  grateful  to  me  if  I  aid 
you  in  drawing  out  the  truth  hidden  away  in  the 
mind  of  a  man,  or  rather  men,  of  renown? 


112  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

TJieaet.  How  could  I  but  be  grateful,  and  in 
large  measure  too? 

Soc.  But  first  look  about  carefully,  lest  we  be 
overheard  by  one  of  the  uninitiated,  —  they,  I 
mean,  who  do  not  admit  the  existence  of  any- 
thing which  they  cannot  hold  fast  in  their  two 
hands,  and  who  do  not  believe  that  action  and 
generation  and  all  that  is  unseen  can  be  classed 
as  really  existent.15 

Theaet.     The  men  of  whom  you  speak,  Socra- 

156  tes,  are  hard  and  stubborn  indeed. 

[156  A.-i6o  E.  Socrates  proceeds  to  examine  the 
hypothesis  upon  which  the  doctrine  of  the  school 
of  Protagoras  is  founded. 

On  being  asked  whether  he  does  not  "  relish 
the  taste  of  these  theories,"  Theaetetus  replies : 

157  C.     "  For  my  part,  Socrates,  I  do  not  know,  for 
I  cannot   make   out  whether   you    believe  it  all 
yourself,  or  are  only  drawing  me  out."     And  he 
adds :   "  When  I  hear  you  going  on  thus,  it  does, 
I  confess,  seem  to  me  that  there  is  marvellous 
reason  in  it,  and  that  all  you  have  set  forth  must 
be  accepted." 

"  Let  us  then,"  Socrates  urges,  "  not  abandon 
what  remains  unfinished  of  the  subject,  such 
as  its  aspect  in  relation  to  dreams  and  diseases, 
and  especially  madness  and  its  delusions  of  sight, 
•  hearing,  and  other  senses,  ...  in  all  which 
cases  appearances  are  the  reverse  of  what  they 
seem." 


THEAETETUS.  113 

Still  speaking  in  the  name  of  those  who  hold 
appearances  to  be  the  truth,  Socrates  declares 
that  knowledge  is  not  absolute,  but  relative, 
nothing,  in  fact,  having  reality  save  in  its  rela- 
tion to  some  percipient.  Thus  the  same  food 
which  to  the  well  man  is  sweet,  is  bitter  to  the 
sick,  nor  is  the  latter  to  be  deemed  the  more 
ignorant  of  the  two,  because  of  the  difference  in 
his  perception.  And  hereby  is  justified  the  say- 
ing of  Protagoras,  "  I  am  judge  of  all  things." 

"  Admirable  indeed,"  so  Socrates  reviews  the 
situation,  "  is  your  assertion  that  knowledge  is 
nothing  but  perception ;  and  it  comes  to  the 
same  thing  whether,  with  Homer  and  Heraclitus 
and  all  that  set,  you  say  that  all  things  are  flux 
and  motion  ;  or  with  Protagoras,  wisest  of  all  men, 
that  man  is  the  measure  of  all  things ;  or  with 
Theaetetus,  that  perception  is  knowledge."] 

Soc.  Is  it  not  so,  Theaetetus?  May  we  not 
say  that  this  is,  as  it  were,  your  new-born  child? 
161  .  .  .  Must  he,  think  you,  be  reared  at  all  hazards 
and  on  no  account  put  away?  Or  can  you  bear 
to  see  him  proved  spurious,  and  not  be  exceeding 
wroth  if  any  one  takes  from  you  your  first-born? 

Theod.  Theaetetus  will  bear  it,  Socrates,  for 
he  is  not  in  the  least  irritable.  But  by  the  gods 
tell  me,  is  this  in  its  turn  untrue? 

Soc.  You  are  certainly  a  lover  of  argument, 
Theodorus,  and  a  simple  fellow  to  boot,  if  you 
think  that  I  am  in  some  sort  a  bagful  of  argu- 
8 


114  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN  YOUTHS. 

ments  and  can  easily  draw  one  out  to  prove  that 
these  things  are  not  true  after  all.  But  you  do  not 
see  the  real  state  of  the  case,  — that  not  a  single 
one  of  the  arguments  comes  from  me,  but  invari- 
ably from  him  who  is  talking  with  me,  and  that 
I  myself  only  understand  this  one  simple  thing,  — 
how  I  may  apprehend  and  accept  in  a  spirit  of 
fairness  the  argument  of  some  other  man  who  is 
wise.  And  so  I  shall  try  to  get  one  now  out 
of  our  philosopher  here,  and  not  speak  at  all 
myself. 

Theod.  That  is  the  better  way,  Socrates ;  pray 
do  as  you  say. 

Soc.  Well,  Theodorus,  do  you  know  what  sur- 
prises me  in  your  friend  Protagoras? 

[161  €.-162  A.  The  matter  for  surprise  is  this:  If 
it  be  true  that  all  men  are  equally  capable  of 
forming  a  right  judgment,  how  can  any  one  man, 
even  Protagoras  himself,  be  held  as  pre-eminent 
and  therefore  fit  for  the  guidance  of  others  ?  Nay, 
why  should  not  any  animal  who  is  gifted  with  per- 
ception be  also  pronounced  a  "  measure  of  all 
things  "?  This  attack  upon  his  old  master's  fun- 
damental principle  is  used  by  Theodorus  as  an 
excuse  for  not  taking  part  in  the  discussion.] 

Theod.  The  man  was  a  friend  of  mine,  Soc- 
rates, as  you  have  just  said.  I  therefore  should 
neither  be  willing  on  the  one  hand  to  have  Protago- 
ras refuted  by  my  admissions,  nor  on  the  other  to 


THEAE  TE  TUS.  I  I  5 

oppose  you  against  my  own  conviction.  Pray, 
then,  try  Theaetetus  again.  Surely  he  seemed 
to  be  answering  very  suitably  just  now. 

Soc.  Suppose,  Theodorus,  you  were  to  go  into 
the  palaestras  at  Lacedemon,  should  you  think  it 
fair,  when  the  other  people  were  naked,  —  some 
of  them,  by  the  way,  poor  specimens  enough,  — - 
not  to  strip  yourself  also,  and  let  your  figure  be 
compared  with  theirs? 

Thcod.  Why,  don't  you  suppose  that  I  should, 
if  I  could  persuade  them  to  let  me?  And  just 
so  I  shall  now,  I  think,  persuade  you  to  let  me 
look  on,  and,  instead  of  dragging  me  into  the 
gymnasium  now  that  I  have  grown  stiff,  to  try 
yourself  against  some  younger  and  more  supple 
opponent  in  my  place. 

Soc.  Why,  of  course,  Theodorus,  friend  to  you 
cannot  be  foe  to  me,  as  the  proverb  has  it.  So 
let  us,  by  all  means,  go  back  to  our  wise  The- 
aetetus. First  then,  referring  to  the  matter  just 
under  discussion,  tell  me,  Theaetetus,  are  you  not 
amazed  if  you  are  to  be  suddenly  proved  inferior 
in  wisdom  to  none,  whether  men  or  even  gods? 
Or  do  you  suppose  that  the  measure  of  Protago- 
ras applies  less  to  gods  than  to  men? 

Theaet.  Not  I,  by  Zeus  !  To  answer  your  ques- 
tion, I  am  indeed  greatly  amazed.  When  we 
were  considering  the  doctrine  that  what  "  seems" 
to  each  man  "  is  "  really  so  to  him,  I  thought  it 
admirable.  But  now  of  a  sudden,  all  is  reversed. 

Soc.     That  is  because  you  are  young,  dear  boy, 


II 6  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

and  therefore  quick  to  hear  and  to  be  convinced 
by  popular  talk. 

[162  D.-i68  E.  Theaetetus  is  now  urged  not  to  rest 
satisfied  until  his  own  and  the  Protagorean 
theory  has  been  examined  under  another  aspect. 
If  perception  be  really  identical  with  knowl- 
edge, what  shall  we  say  of  things  that  we  per- 
ceive, but  do  not  know,  such  as  letters  in  a 
foreign  language  which,  though  seen,  are  not 
understood  by  us? 

163  C.     "We  shall  say,"  replies  Theaetetus,    "that 
what  we  actually  see  and  hear  of  them  we   do 
understand,  —  that  is,  we  see  and  understand  their 
form  and  colour,  and  we  hear  and  recognize  their 
rising    and    falling    inflections,  —  but   what   the 
grammarians  and  interpreters  teach  about  them, 
we  neither  perceive  nor  know,  whether  by  sight 
or  hearing." 

"  That  is  excellent,  Theaetetus  !  "  cries  Soc- 
rates ;  "  I  will  not  stop  to  argue  the  point  with 
you,  because  I  want  to  let  you  grow.  But  look! 
here  comes  something  else,  which  we  must  con- 
sider how  we  may  fight  against." 

The  "something  else"  is  the  knowledge  which 
comes  from  memory.  If  by  means  of  this  we  can 
continue  to  know  what  we  no  longer  see,  it  fol- 
lows that  perception  can  be  no  essential  part  of 
knowledge ;  and  thus  the  fable  of  Protagoras  is 
seen  to  be  forever  destroyed. 

164  E.     "  And  yet,   my  friend,"   Socrates   adds,   "  I 


THE  A  E  TE  TUS.  1 1  7 

doubt  not  that,  were  the  father  of  the  aforesaid 
fable  still  alive,  he  would  have  had  much  to  say 
in  its  defence.  But  now,  since  it  is  an  orphan, 
we  are  heaping  abuse  upon  it.  Nor  do  even  the 
guardians  whom  Protagoras  left  in  charge,  care  to 
give  their  help,  as,  for  instance,  Theodorus  here. 
And  so,  for  the  sake  of  fair  play,  it  seems  that  we 
ourselves  must  come  to  the  rescue." 

"It  is  not  I,  Socrates,  who  am  guardian," 
Theodorus  pleads  in  excuse,  "  but  rather  Cal- 
lias,  the  son  of  Hipponicus.  For  I  was  earlier 
than  he  turned  aside  from  abstract  questions  to 
the  study  of  geometry.  If  you,  however,  will 
come  to  the  rescue,  I  shall  be  very  grateful." 

Socrates  accordingly,  impersonating  the  old 
philosopher,  declares,  in  his  name,  that  truth  is  an 
ever-varying  quality.  Thus  an  evil  mind  sees 
no  less  truly  than  does  a  good  one,  for  a  man's 
own  experience  is  to  him  the  only  reality,  nor 
can  he  possibly  grasp  anything  outside  of  it.  A 
good  man,  nevertheless,  has  the  power  so  to 
change  the  condition  of  another's  mind,  that 
opinions  like  his  own  may  be  generated  there  in 
place  of  evil  ones.  In  like  manner  wise  and  good 
rhetoricians  have  power  in  the  state  to  make  the 
good  not  only  discerned,  but  chosen  in  prefer- 
ence to  the  evil.  At  the  close  of  his  defence, 
Protagoras  expresses  disapproval  of  the  unfair 
and  frivolous  spirit  shown  by  his  adversary, 
whose  method  has  been  that  of  disputation  rather 
than  of  argument] 


Il8  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN  YOUTHS. 

1 68  C.  Soc.  Thus,  Theodorus,  have  I  to  the  best 
of  my  ability  contributed  to  the  defence  of  your 
friend,  —  slight  help  from  slight  source.  Had 
he  been  alive  himself,  he  would  have  defended 
his  own  in  far  more  stately  fashion. 

Theod.  You  are  jesting,  Socrates,  for  you 
have  defended  him  right  valiantly. 

Soc.  That  is  kind  of  you,  my  friend.  But  tell 
me,  —  did  you,  I  wonder,  when  Protagoras  was 
speaking  just  now,  notice  how  he  upbraided  us, 
because  by  addressing  our  discourse  to  a  boy, 
we  were  making  the  boy's  timidity  a  weapon 
against  his  own  arguments ;  and  how  he  de- 
nounced this  as  a  sorry  kind  of  jest;  and  how, 
holding  up  to  our  admiration  his  "  measure  of 
all  things,"  he  bade  us  address  ourselves  to  his 
doctrine  in  sober  earnest? 

Theod.    How  could  I  help  noticing  it,  Socrates? 

Soc.     Well,  do  you  advise  us  to  obey  him? 

Theod.     I  do,  emphatically. 

Soc.  But  don't  you  see  that  all  here  present, 
with  the  exception  of  yourself,  are  children? 
If  then  we  are  to  obey  the  man,  you  and  I  must 
apply  ourselves  seriously  to  his  doctrine,  and  ad- 
dress our  questions  and  answers  to  one  another, 
so  that  he  may  at  least  not  have  occasion  to  re- 
proach us  with  again  turning  our  study  of  his 
doctrine  into  a  frolic  with  boys. 

Theod.  What!  would  not  Theaetetus  follow 
the  investigation  of  a  doctrine  better  than  many 
a  man  with  a  long  beard? 


THE  A  E  TE  TUS.  1 1 9 

Sac.  But  not  better,  Theodorus,  than  you  your- 
self. Pray  do  not  imagine  that  it  is  my  duty  to 
stand  up  for  your  departed  friend  in  every  way, 
169  and  yours  in  no  way  whatever.  So  come,  my 
good  fellow,  follow  this  matter  just  a  little  further, 
that  we  may  see  whether  you  are  to  be  the 
measure  of  diagrams,  or  whether  all  other  men 
are,  equally  with  you,  sufficient  unto  themselves 
in  astronomy  and  all  other  branches  wherein 
you  are  reputed  to  excel. 

Theod.  It  is  not  easy,  Socrates,  for  one  seated 
by  your  side  to  get  off  from  rendering  an  ac- 
count of  himself,  and  I  was  talking  nonsense 
just  now  when  I  said  you  would  excuse  me 
from  stripping  myself,  and  would  not  rather, 
like  the  Lacedaemonians,  force  me  into  doing  it; 
although  you,  to  be  sure,  seem  rather  to  take 
after  Sciron.  For  the  Lacedaemonians  command 
one  either  to  strip  or  to  go  away,  while  you,  me- 
thinks,  do  the  business  rather  after  the  fashion  of 
Antaeus :  if  a  man  is  once  within  your  reach, 
you  will  not  let  him  go  till  you  have  compelled 
him  both  to  strip  and  to  try  himself  against  you 
in  argument.16 

Soc.  You  have  described  my  malady  perfectly, 
Theodorus,  only  I  am  a  far  more  doughty  oppo- 
nent than  they.  For  many  a  Heracles  and  a 
Theseus  mighty  in  the  art  of  controversy  has  ere 
now  fallen  upon  me  and  given  me  a  sound  drub- 
bing; but  none  the  more  for  that  do  I  desist,  so 
strongly  am  I  imbued  with  a  love  for  this  kind  of 


120  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN  YOUTHS. 

exercise.  Pray,  then,  do  not  refuse  to  close  in 
with  me,  for  your  own  good  no  less  than  for  mine. 

Theod.  I  will  make  no  further  opposition. 
Lead  whithersoever  you  will ;  in  any  case  I  shall 
have  to  bear,  by  cross-examination,  whatever 
fate  you  spin  for  me.  But  I  warn  you  that  I 
shall  not  be  able  to  go  beyond  the  limit  proposed 
by  you. 

Soc.  That  far  is  quite  sufficient ;  and  pray  give 
your  utmost  heed  that  we  do  not  unconsciously 
fall  into  any  childish  fashion  of  talking,  and  again 
bring  that  reproach  upon  ourselves. 

Tkeod.     I  will  certainly  try,  so  far  as  I  can. 

[169  D.-I72  C.  The  investigation  now  assuming  a 
more  serious  character,  the  conclusion  is  finally 
reached  that  to  confess  every  man's  opinions  the 
"  measure  of  all  things  "  is  to  acknowledge  your 
own  to  be  in  error,  inasmuch  as  certain  other 
opinions  will  surely  be  at  variance  with  them ; 
neither,  it  is  added,  can  any  man  be  the  measure 
of  a  thing  which  he  has  not  learned.  And  thus 
the  famous  truth  of  Protagoras  is  true  neither  to 
the  discoverer  of  it  nor  to  any  one  else. 

171  C.  "Ah,  but,  Socrates,"  cries  Theodorus,  "we 
are  running  my  friend  very  hard." 

"  But  I  really  do  not  see,  my  dear  fellow," 
Socrates  rejoins,  "  that  we  are  outrunning  what 
is  right.  Though  it  is  likely,  to  be  sure,  that  be- 
ing older  he  is  also  wiser  than  ourselves;  and  if 
he  could  at  this  moment  thrust  his  head  up  from 


THEAETETUS.  121 

yonder  where  he  is,  he  would  soon,  I  doubt  not, 
convict  me  of  talking  great  nonsense,  and  you  of 
accepting  the  same,  and  then  down  he  would  sink 
and  be  off  again  in  a  trice.17  But  all  the  same  we 
must,  it  seems  to  me,  use  our  own  faculties,  such 
as  they  are,  and  always  say  what  we  think." 

It  soon  becomes  apparent,  however  applica- 
ble may  be  the  doctrine  of  Protagoras  in  matters 
of  right  and  wrong,  that  in  questions  of  ex- 
pediency, both  present  and  future,  whether  in 
matters  of  State  or  in  private  affairs,  all  men  are 
not  equally  capable  of  right  judgment] 

Soc.  But  here  from  one  question,  Theodorus, 
we  are  being  forced  into  another,  —  from  a  lesser 
into  a  greater  one. 

Theod.  Well,  Socrates,  we  have  plenty  of 
time,  have  we  not? 

Soc.  Apparently  so.  In  truth,  my  good  fellow, 
I  have  often  before  reflected,  just  as  I  am  doing 
now,  how  natural  it  is  that  they  who  have  spent 
much  time  in  the  study  of  philosophy  should  cut 
a  ridiculous  figure  when  they  come  to  speak  in 
court.18 

Tlieod.     Exactly  what  do  you  mean? 

Soc.  I  mean  that,  in  point  of  breeding,  those 
who  from  earliest  youth  have  knocked  about  in 
law  courts  and  places  of  that  kind  are,  com- 
pared with  those  trained  in  philosophy  and  other 
such  pursuits,  like  slaves  in  comparison  with  free 
men. 


122  TALKS    WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

Theod.     In  what  way? 

Soc.  In  that  the  leisure  you  spoke  of  is  always 
at  the  command  of  the  philosophers.  They  have 
their  argument  out  in  peace  and  at  leisure;  and 
just  as  we  now  for  the  third  time  are  changing 
from  one  subject  to  another,  so  do  they  also,  if, 
like  us,  they  prefer  to  discuss  a  subject  which 
comes  later  in  order  rather  than  the  matter  in 
hand.  And  they  care  not  whether  they  speak 
briefly  or  at  length,  if  only  they  get  at  the  truth. 
Whereas  the  others  always  talk  in  a  hurry,  — 
for  the  running  of  the  water  drives  them  on, 
—  and  they  have  not  time  to  speak  on  what 
they  have  at  heart;  while  there  the  opponent 
stands  armed  with  the  constraining  power  of 
a  written  brief  outside  of  which  they  dare  not 
speak,  — the  so-called  affidavits.19  And  their 
talk  is  always  about  some  fellow-slave,  and  is 
addressed  to  the  master  who  sits  holding  in  his 
hand  the  penalty  to  be  awarded ;  and  the  trial  is 
never  about  some  indifferent  matter,  but  always 
about  the  speaker  himself,  —  and  ofttimes  the 
173  race  is  for  life.  From  all  these  causes  they  be- 
come sharp  and  shrewd,  and  apt  at  flattering  the 
master  by  word  and  courting  his  favour  by  deed, 
and  their  souls  are  stunted  and  not  upright.  For 
slavery  from  childhood  takes  away  all  growth  and 
self-respect  and  freedom,  and  makes  crooked 
deeds  a  necessity,  and  surrounds  with  great  fears 
and  dangers  souls  which,  being  as  yet  tender,  are 
unable  to  pass  through  them  save  at  the  ex- 


THE  A  E  TE  TUS.  1 2  3 

pense  of  justice  and  truth.  And,  having  straight- 
way recourse  to  falsehood  and  retaliation,  they 
become  so  cramped  and  warped  that  by  the  time 
they  have  passed  from  youth  to  man's  estate 
their  minds  have  no  longer  any  soundness  in 
them,  though  in  their  own  opinion  they  have 
become  both  wise  and  capable.  Such,  Theo- 
dorus,  are  these  men.  And  now  what  do  you 
wish?  Shall  we  describe  those  of  our  chorus,20 
or  shall  we  dismiss  this  subject  and  go  back  to 
our  discussion,  lest  we  take  undue  advantage  of 
that  liberty  and  free  exchange  of  intercourse 
which  we  were  talking  about  just  now? 

Theod.  On  no  account,  Socrates  ;  pray  let  us 
have  the  whole.  For  you  were  quite  right  in 
declaring  that  we  who  belong  to  such  a  chorus 
as  this  are  not  the  slaves  of  our  own  words; 
but  our  arguments  are,  so  to  speak,  servants  of 
ours,  each  waiting  to  be  perfected  when  it  shall 
seem  to  us  good.  For  neither  judge  nor  specta- 
tor stands  over  us,  as  with  the  poets,  to  censure 
or  control. 

Soc.  Very  well,  since  it  so  pleases  you,  we 
will  speak  of  the  leaders  ;  for  what  need  to  speak 
of  those  who  only  dabble  superficially  in  phi- 
losophy? In  the  first  place,  then,  from  youth 
up  they  have  never  so  much  as  known  their  way 
to  the  Agora,  nor  yet  to  the  courts  of  justice  or 
the  council  hall  or  any  other  public  place  of 
assembly.  Laws  and  ordinances,  whether  they 
be  written  or  spoken,  they  neither  see  nor  hear. 


124  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

Struggles  of  political  leagues  for  leadership,  as- 
semblies, banquets,  revelries  with  flute-girls,  - 
it  does  not  occur  to  them,  even  in  their  dreams, 
to  take  part  in  these.  Whether  matters  have 
gone  well  or  ill  in  the  State,  whether  misfortune 
has  come  to  any  one  from  ancestors  on  the  male 
or  the  female  line,21  he  is  more  ignorant  of  than  of 
how  many  gallons  are  said  to  be  contained  in  the 
sea.  Nor  is  he  even  conscious  that  he  does  not 
know  these  things,  as  it  is  not  for  the  sake  of 
gaining  repute  that  he  holds  aloof;  but  the  truth 
is  that  his  body  alone  is  placed  in  the  city  and 
there  abides,  while  his  soul,  regarding  all  this  as 
petty  and  of  no  account,  and  "  borne,"  in  the 
words  of  Pindar,  "  hither  and  thither," 22  takes 
measure  of  things  on  the  earth,  and  under  the 
earth,  and  observes  the  stars  in  the  heavens,  and 
174  searches  out  the  nature  of  every  created  being, 
each  in  its  entirety,  stooping  to  none  of  those 
which  lie  close  at  hand. 

Theod.     How  do  you  mean,  Socrates? 

Soc.  I  mean,  Theodorus,  after  the  fashion  of 
Thales,  who  gazing  up  at  the  stars  tumbled  into 
a  well ; 23  on  which  occasion  a  clever  and  quick- 
witted Thracian  handmaid  is  reputed  to  have 
scoffingly  said  that  in  his  eagerness  to  know 
what  was  going  on  in  heaven  he  did  not  notice 
what  lay  in  front  of  him,  beneath  his  very  feet. 
And  the  same  raillery  serves  for  all  who  pursue 
philosophy.  A  man  of  this  sort  is  in  truth  igno- 
rant of  both  friend  and  neighbour,  —  not  only  of 


THEAE  TE  TUS.  1 2  5 

what  he  is  doing,  but  almost  whether  he  is  a  hu- 
man being  or  some  other  creature.  But  when  it 
comes  to  what  man  really  is,  and  what  it  befits 
such  a  nature  as  his  to  do  or  to  suffer,  in  dis- 
tinction from  all  others,  —  this  he  is  ever  inves- 
tigating and  sparing  no  pains  to  discover.  You 
understand  me,  Theodorus,  I  suppose, — or  do 
you  not? 

Theod.  Yes,  indeed;  and  what  you  say  is 
true. 

Soc.  Consequently,  my  friend,  when  a  man 
of  this  kind  comes  into  relation  with  others,  — 
whether,  as  I  said  before,  in  private  or  on  a  public 
occasion, — when,  in  a  court  of  justice  or  else- 
where, he  is  forced  to  talk  of  things  which  lie 
beneath  his  feet  and  before  his  very  eyes,  he 
makes  himself  a  laughing-stock  not  to  Thracian 
handmaids  only,  but  to  the  crowd  in  general; 
and  by  reason  of  his  inexperience  he  tumbles 
into  wells  and  every  other  kind  of  perplexity; 
and  his  excessive  awkwardness  makes  him  ap- 
pear like  a  fool.  For  when  insulted,  he  can  re- 
tort no  insulting  personalities,  because,  never 
having  paid  attention  to  such  matters,  he  knows 
no  harm  of  any  one ;  and  so,  in  this  quandary, 
he  cuts  a  ridiculous  figure.  And  when,  on  hear- 
ing others  praised  and  lauded,  he  is  seen  to  be 
laughing,  not  affectedly  but  in  good  earnest,  he 
is  set  down  as  a  simpleton. 

But  the  fact  is,  when  a  king  or  a  tyrant  is  com- 
mended it  seems  to  him  like  congratulating  some 


126  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

herdsman,  —  perhaps  a  swineherd,  or  a  shepherd, 
or  some  cowherd  because  he  has  many  creatures 
to  milk;  only  he  thinks  that  the  animal  which 
the  tyrant  has  to  tend  and  milk  is  far  more 
treacherous  and  choleric  than  is  the  herdsman's 
charge,  and  that  a  man  of  this  kind  is,  from  want 
of  leisure,  no  less  rough  and  uneducated  than 
the  herdsman,  —  being  girt  about  by  a  wall,  his 
mountain  fold. 

Does  he  hear  the  owner  of  ten  thousand  or 
more  acres  spoken  of  as  possessing  a  vast  prop- 
erty, he  regards  it  as  a  mere  nothing,  so  accus- 
tomed is  he  to  embrace  within  his  view  the  whole 
earth.  Do  they  extol  pedigree,  —  saying  how 
such  a  one  is  noble  because  he  can  boast  of  weal- 
thy ancestors  for  seven  generations  back,  —  it 
seems  to  him  that  the  commendation  can  proceed 
175  only  from  persons  of  dull  and  contracted  vision, 
who  by  reason  of  ignorance  are  not  able  to  em- 
brace the  whole  within  their  ken,  nor  to  consider 
that  every  one  of  us  has  had  thousands  untold  of 
ancestors  and  progenitors,  among  whom  there  are 
in  every  case  rich  men  and  beggars,  kings  and 
slaves,  Greeks  and  barbarians,  many  times  ten 
thousand  for  every  one.  That  men  should  pride 
themselves  upon  a  list  of  twenty-five  ancestors, 
and  go  back  to  Heracles,  the  son  of  Amphitryon, 
is  to  him  a  sign  of  extreme  pettiness;  and  in- 
asmuch as  the  twenty-fifth  ancestor  back  of 
Amphitryon  was  just  what  fortune  made  him, 
and  also  the  fiftieth  before  him  again,  he  laughs 


THEAE  TE  TUS.  1 2  7 

to  think  that  they  have  not  the  wit  to  reckon  this 
up,  and  thus  put  an  end  to  the  vain  glory  of  a 
foolish  mind.24 

In  all  these  cases  a  man  of  this  kind  is  laughed 
at  by  the  crowd,  because  while  as  to  some  things 
he  appears  haughty,  as  to  others  he  does  not 
know  what  lies  beneath  his  feet,  and  is  helpless 
when  it  comes  to  details. 

Theod.  You  describe  everything  just  as  it  is, 
Socrates. 

Soc.  But  when  he  himself,  my  friend,  draws 
another  up  to  his  own  height, —  one  who  is  willing 
to  rise  with  him  beyond  the  question  of  "  In  what 
way  do  I  injure  you  or  you  me?"  to  the  exami- 
nation of  righteousness  and  injustice  in  them- 
selves, —  what  each  of  these  is,  and  wherein  they 
differ  from  each  other  and  from  all  things  else, — 
or  from  the  question,  "  Is  a  monarch  happy  be- 
cause he  has  great  wealth?"  to  the  consideration 
of  monarchy  itself  and  the  sum  of  human  happi- 
ness and  misery,  —  what  each  of  these  consists 
in,  and  in  what  manner  the  nature  of  man  is 
fitted  to  acquire  the  one  and  avoid  the  other,  — 
when  that  little,  dried  up  pettifogger's  soul  has  to 
give  an  answer  to  all  these  questions,  then  indeed 
does  he  give  the  philosopher  his  revenge.  Diz- 
zied by  the  unwonted  experience  of  hanging  from 
such  heights  and  gazing  downward  through  the 
air,  distressed,  confused,  and  stammering,  he  is 
a  laughing-stock,  not  to  Thracian  handmaids  nor 
to  any  of  the  ignorant,  —  they  do  not  even  per- 


128  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

ceive  it,  —  but  to  all  who  have  been  brought  up 
not  as  slaves,  but  in  the  opposite  fashion.25 

Such,  Theodorus,  is  the  character  of  these 
two,  —  the  one,  called  by  you  philosopher,  who, 
brought  up  in  freedom  and  leisure,  may  well  be 
excused  if  he  appear  helpless  and  incompetent 
when  some  slavish  task  devolves  upon  him,  as 
when  for  example  he  does  not  know  how  to  pack 
up  his  bedding  or  to  flavour  a  sauce  or  a  flatter- 
ing phrase;  the  other,  who  is  able  to  perform 
deftly  and  quickly  all  such  tasks,  but  does  not 
know  how  to  throw  his  cloak  over  his  shoulder 
176  like  a  free  man,26  still  less  how  to  make  choice  of 
fitting  speech  wherewith  to  celebrate  worthily 
the  true  life  lived  of  gods  and  of  men  blessed  of 
heaven. 

Theod.  Ah,  Socrates,  if  your  words  could 
only  persuade  others  as  they  do  me,  there  would 
be  more  peace  and  less  evil  among  men ! 

Soc.  But  it  is  not  possible,  Theodorus,  to  de- 
stroy evil,  for  the  opposite  of  good  must  needs 
always  exist ;  nor  is  its  abiding-place  to  be  im- 
agined among  the  gods,  for  it  hovers  of  necessity 
about  mortal  nature  here  below.  Therefore  it 
behooves  us  to  make  good  our  escape  hence 
to  yonder  place  as  fast  as  may  be.  And  the 
way  of  escape  is  this,  —  to  grow  as  like  unto 
God  as  possible;  and  to  grow  like  him  is  to 
become  just  and  holy,  and  wise  withal.27  But  in 
sooth,  my  friend,  it  is  far  from  easy  to  persuade 
people  that  not  for  the  reason  which  most 


THEAETETUS.  129 

men  give  for  cultivating  virtue  and  not  vice,  — 
namely,  to  make  a  good  instead  of  a  bad  ap- 
pearance, —  not  for  this  reason,  I  say,  is  the  one 
to  be  shunned  and  the  other  pursued.  For  this, 
it  seems  to  me,  is  nothing  but  an  oft  repeated 
old  wives'  tale. 

But  the  truth  we  will  proclaim  in  this  wise: 
God  is  never  in  any  wise  unjust,  for  he  is  per- 
fectly just,  and  there  is  nothing  more  like  him 
than  the  man  among  us  who  has  made  himself  the 
most  just.  Upon  this  depends  the  real  ability  of 
a  man,  or  else  his  nothingness  and  unmanliness. 
The  knowledge  of  this  truth  is  wisdom  and  true 
virtue,  the  ignorance  of  it  sheer  stupidity  and 
vice ;  and  all  else  that  looks  like  cleverness  and 
wisdom  is  in  matters  of  politics  mere  coarseness, 
in  the  arts  vulgarity. 

It  is  far  better,  then,  never  to  admit  that  he 
who  is  unrighteous  and  profane  in  talk  and  be- 
haviour is  clever  by  reason  of  his  villany.  Such 
men  glory  in  this  reproach,  and  flatter  them- 
selves that  they  are  regarded  not  as  mere  fools 
and  cumberers  of  the  ground,28  but  as  patterns  for 
all  men  who  wish  to  live  with  safety  in  a  state. 
But  they  must  be  told  the  truth, — they  are  all 
the  more  what  they  believe  they  are  not,  for  the 
very  reason  that  they  hold  this  belief.  For  they 
know  not  the  reward  of  unrighteousness,  a  thing 
which  least  of  all  others  they  ought  to  be  igno- 
rant of,  and  which  is  not,  as  they  imagine,  stripes 
and  death,  —  evils  frequently  not  incurred  by 
9 


I3O  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN  YOUTHS. 

those  who  have  done  wrong,  —  but  something 
impossible  to  escape  from. 

Theod.     What  do  you  mean  ? 

Soc.  Two  living  types,  my  friend,  are  set 
before  them,  —  the  one  divine  and  of  perfect 
blessedness,  the  other  with  naught  of  the  divine 
and  of  utter  misery.  But  this  they  do  not  per- 
ceive, and  their  excessive  folly  and  stupidity 
makes  them  unconscious  that  on  account  of  their 
177  evil  deeds  they  are  growing  like  the  one  and 
unlike  the  other.  And  the  penalty  they  pay  is 
that  the  life  led  by  them  is  in  the  likeness  of 
that  which  they  resemble.  If  we  tell  them  that 
unless  they  get  rid  of  their  boasted  cleverness, 
they  will  not,  even  when  dead,  be  received  into 
that  place  which  is  free  from  evil,  but  must  ever 
continue  here  upon  earth  in  that  way  of  life 
which  is  like  unto  themselves, — evil  consorting 
with  evil,29  —  they  will  listen  to  us,  but  only  as 
clever  knaves  might  listen  to  a  set  of  fools. 

Theod.     Indeed  they  will,  Socrates. 

Soc.  I  am  quite  aware  of  it,  my  friend.  There 
is,  however,  this  about  them,  that  if  they  are 
confronted  with  one  person  alone,  and  made 
to  give  their  reasons  in  regard  to  what  they 
censure,  —  that  is,  if  they  are  willing  to  stand 
their  ground  and  not  run  away  like  cowards,  — 
they  end,  my  good  sir,  by  becoming  strangely 
dissatisfied  with  their  own  reasons;  and  that 
famous  rhetoric  of  theirs  shrivels  away,  as  it 
were,  so  that  they  seem  no  better  than  children. 


THEAE  TE  TUS.  1 3  I 

But  all  these  are  mere  digressions,  and  we 
had  best  restrain  ourselves,  or  we  shall  have 
yet  more  of  them  flowing  in  to  choke  up  our 
main  argument.  If  you  approve,  therefore,  we 
will  return  to  our  former  subject. 

TJieod.  For  my  own  part,  Socrates,  I  do  not 
find  it  at  all  unpleasant  to  listen  to  such  digres- 
sions as  these,  for  they  are  easier  for  one  of  my 
age  to  understand.  But  still,  if  you  wish  it,  we 
will  go  back  again. 

[177  C.-I79  E.  The  discussion  is  now  resumed  at 
the  point  where  it  was  interrupted  by  the  digres- 
sion. That  some  men  are  wiser  than  others,  and 
that  the  wiser  man  alone  can  be  a  fit  "  measure," 
is  at  last  fully  conceded  by  Theodorus. 

It  still  remains  to  be  considered  whether  in 
the  matter  of  momentary  impressions  also  each 
man's  judgment  is  infallible.  Such  a  supposition 
would  seem  to  be  supported  by  the  theory  of 
a  universal  flux  or  continual  change  and  motion, 
and  the  Heracliteans  are  accordingly  summoned, 
though  not  without  a  protest  from  Theodorus, 
who  declares  that  they  are  "  no  more  possible  to 
deal  with  than  madmen."] 

Theod.     For    in    accordance   with   their    own 

compositions,  they  are  forever  in  motion;    and 

as    for   carrying    on    an   argument,   and    quietly 

questioning    and    answering   by   turn,  —  this   to 

1 80  them   is  nothing  short  of  impossible.  .  .  .   On 


132  TALKS    WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

the  contrary,  if  one  of  them  is  asked  a  ques- 
tion, he  pulls  forth,  as  from  a  quiver,  some  enig- 
matical saying  and  shoots  it  out.  And  if  you 
try  to  get  at  the  meaning  of  what  he  has  said, 
you  will  be  struck  down  by  some  other  new- 
fangled saying,  but  with  none  of  these  men  will 
you  ever  arrive  at  any  conclusion ;  nor,  for  that 
matter,  will  they  do  so  with  one  another,  for 
they  are  exceedingly  wary  of  admitting  anything 
as  fixed,  —  whether  in  argument  or  in  their  own 
souls,  —  on  the  supposition,  I  believe,  that  to  be 
fixed  is  to  be  stationary;  against  which  principle 
they  wage  fierce  war  and  drive  it  out  wherever 
they  can. 

Soc.  Apparently,  Theodorus,  you  have  seen 
these  men  in  a  state  of  warfare,  and  have  never 
had  anything  to  do  with  them  in  time  of  peace, 
as  they  are  not  intimates  of  yours.  But  I  ima- 
gine that,  when  quietly  by  themselves,  they  do 
impart  ideas  of  another  kind  to  their  disciples, 
whom  they  desire  to  make  like  themselves. 

TJieod.  Disciples,  indeed,  my  good  sir  !  None 
of  that  sort  are  ever  disciples  one  of  the  other. 
No,  indeed,  they  grow  up  of  their  own  accord, 
each  getting  inspiration  wherever  he  may  chance 
upon  it,  and  each  one  thinking  that  the  other 
knows  nothing.  No,  from  these,  as  I  was  about 
to  say,  you  will  never  get  any  explanation,  either 
with  their  consent  or  without  it.30  We  must 
perforce  take  the  doctrine  up  ourselves,  and 
consider  it  as  we  would  a  problem. 


THEAE  TE  TUS.  1 3  3 

[180  C.-i83  B.  Upon  the  theory  of  universal  mo- 
tion, all  things  are  not  only  forever  changing 
place,  .but  are  also  continually  undergoing 
change  of  condition.  To  admit  this  doctrine, 
therefore,  is  to  deny  the  possibility  of  impres- 
sions; since  before  there  is  time  to  receive  an 
impression,  the  object  itself  will  have  changed. 
After  some  further  parley  the  doctrine  of 
Protagoras  and  of  the  Heracliteans  is  finally 
dismissed  as  untenable.] 

Soc.  So,  then,  Theodorus,  we  have  got  rid  of 
your  friend,  and  do  not  as  yet  agree  with  him 
that  every  one  is  the  measure  of  all  things,  except 
indeed  he  be  some  wise  man ;  nor  will  we  agree 
either  that  knowledge  is  perception,  at  least  not 
on  the  doctrine  of  universal  motion.  But  perhaps 
Theaetetus  here  has  something  more  to  propose. 

Thcod.  You  have  spoken  capitally,  Socrates ; 
so  much  so  that  I  must  be  now  released  from  the 
obligation  of  answering  you,  as  it  was  agreed  I 
should  be,  whenever  our  talk  about  the  doctrine 
of  Protagoras  was  at  an  end. 

Theaet.  But  not,  Theodorus,  before  you  and 
Socrates,  as  you  proposed  awhile  ago,  have  re- 
viewed the  doctrine  of  those  who  maintain  that 
everything  is  at  rest. 

Thcod.  So  young,  Theaetetus,  and  yet  teach- 
ing your  elders  to  act  unjustly  and  break  their 
faith  !  Nay,  rather  get  ready  to  answer  Socrates 
yourself  during  the  rest  of  the  discussion. 


134  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

Theaet.  Of  course,  if  he  desires  it.  But  I 
would  much  rather  have  listened,  as  I  said. 

Theod.  It  is  challenging  horsemen  upon  an 
open  plain,  to  challenge  Socrates  to  argument. 
Only  question  him  and  you  will  hear. 

Soc.  On  the  contrary,  Theodorus,  I  do  not 
think  I  shall  obey  the  request  of  Theaetetus. 

Theod.     But  why  will  you  not  obey  it? 

Soc.  Such  is  my  reverence  for  Melissus  and 
the  others,  who  hold  that  the  universe  is  one 
and  moveless,  that  I  am  ashamed  to  examine 
these  doctrines  in  an  unworthy  manner.  But  I 
feel  this  less  with  them  than  with  Parmenides, 
the  One.31  For,  to  my  thinking,  Parmenides 
is,  in  the  words  of  Homer,  "  venerable  at  once 
and  awesome."  I  met  the  man  when  he  was 
very  aged  and  I  a  very  young  lad,  and  to  me 
the  depth  of  his  mind  seemed  altogether  mag- 
184  nificent.  I  fear  therefore  that  we  may  not  un- 
derstand even  his  words,  and;  may  be  left  still 
farther  behind  as  to  his  meaning;  and  more 
than  all  am  I  fearful  that  other  questions,  if 
once  allowed,  will  force  themselves  in,  and  pre- 
vent us  from  considering  that  which  was  the 
starting-point  of  our  discussion, —  the  nature  of 
knowledge.  .  .  . 

Let  us  try,  then,  by  the  help  of  our  art,  to  de- 
liver Theaetetus  of  his  conceptions  in  regard  to 
knowledge. 

Theod.  By  all  means  do  so,  if  you  think  it 
best. 


THEAE  TE  TUS.  1 3  5 

[184  B.-ipi  E.  Returning  to  the  original  defini- 
tion, Socrates  questions  the  accuracy  of  the 
common  statement,  —  that  sight  and  sound  are 
discerned  with  the  eyes  and  ears.  "  A  free  use 
of  words  and  phrases,"  he  declares,  "  is  for  the 
most  part  a  sign  of  breeding ;  a  too  punctilious 
accuracy  is,  on  the  other  hand,  underbred.  Some- 
times however,  as  on  the  present  occasion,  where 
a  statement  is  not  correct  it  must  needs  be  called 
in  question.  Consider,  then,  which  is  more  cor- 
rect, —  that  we  see  with  the  eyes  or  by  means  of 
the  eyes,  and  hear  with  the  ears  or  by  means 
of  the  ears?" 

"  It  seems  to  me,  Socrates,"  is  the  reply,  "  that 
we  perceive  by  means  of  our  organs  rather  than 
with  them." 

"  Yes,"  Socrates  rejoins;  "for  it  were  indeed 
strange  if,  as  though  we  were  so  many  Trojan 
horses,  there  were  placed  within  us  a  quantity  of 
senses,  but  no  one  general  principle,  whether  it 
be  called  soul  or  anything  else,  to  which  they  all 
tend  and  with  which,  albeit  by  means  of  these 
senses  as  instruments,  we  perceive  all  objects 
that  can  be  perceived."32 

The  conclusion  is  finally  reached  that,  although 
tangible  objects  are  noted  by  the  help  of  the 
senses,  abstract  ideas,  —  such  as  being  and  non- 
being,  likeness  and  unlikeness,  identity  and  dif- 
ference,—  are  perceived  by  no  bodily  organ,  but 
by  the  soul  alone ;  whereupon  with  a  burst  of 
enthusiasm  Socrates  exclaims: 


136  'TALKS    WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS, 

185  E.  "  You  are  beautiful,  Theaetetus,  and  not  ugly, 
as  Theodorus  says ;  for  he  who  speaks  beau- 
tiful words  is  himself  both  beautiful  and  good. 
And  besides  being  beautiful,  you  are  doing  me  a 
kindness  by  sparing  me  a  long  discussion;  that 
is,  if  you  believe  that  the  soul  perceives  some 
things  by  her  own  power  alone,  and  others  by  the 
help  of  bodily  organs.33  For  this  was  my  own  be- 
lief and  what  I  was  wishing  might  be  yours  also. 
It  is  now  demonstrated  that  our  knowledge  of 
the  essential  part  of  things  —  what  we  call  the 
realities  —  is  derived,  not  from  the  senses,  but 
from  the  reflections  made  by  the  soul  upon  the 
report  of  the  senses ;  and  that  perception  which 
is  dependent  upon  the  senses  solely,  can  never 
make  these  realities  known  to  us.  In  this  way  is 
knowledge  proved  to  be  essentially  different  from 
perception. 

187  B.  "And  now,"  Socfates  concludes,  "having 
wiped  out  all  that  has  gone  before  and  arrived 
where  we  now  are,  see  if  you  can  discern  more 
clearly.  Tell  me  then  again  what  knowledge  is." 
"  It  is  impossible,  Socrates,  to  say  that  it  is 
all  opinion,  since  false  opinion  does  exist;  but 
knowledge,  I  think,  is  true  opinion,  and  this 
shall  be  my  answer.  If,  like  the  preceding  one, 
it  is  proved  incorrect,  we  will  try  to  find  some 
other." 

"  That  is  the  way,  Theaetetus,  to  answer,  — 
boldly,  not  hesitatingly  as  before,  since  by  taking 
this  course  we  shall  either  find  what  we  seek  or 


THEAE  TE  TUS.  1 3  7 

be  less  likely  to  think  we  know  what  we  really 
do  not;  and  this  in  itself  would  be  no  contemp- 
tible gain," 

Socrates  now  confesses  himself  puzzled  as  to 
the  nature  and  origin  of  false  opinion,  and  doubt- 
ful whether  he  had  best  let  the  whole  question 
go,  or  take  it  up  again  in  a  new  manner. 

"  How  can  you  hesitate,  Socrates,"  urges 
Theaetetus,  "  if  there  seems  any  need  at  all  of 
it?  Just  now,  in  speaking  about  leisure,  you 
and  Theodorus  said  very  properly  that  there  is 
no  pressure  of  haste  in  matters  like  these." 

"  You  do  right  to  remind  me,  and  it  is  perhaps 
not  a  bad  moment  to  go  back  upon  our  steps, 
for  it  is  surely  better  to  go  over  a  little  ground 
well  than  over  much  ground  superficially." 

The  question  soon  arises  how  it  can  be  possi- 
ble to  form  a  false  opinion,  if  opinion  be  indeed 
the  discovery  of  realities  revealed  by  the  mind 
to  itself  alone.  While  disclaiming  any  special 
knowledge  on  the  subject,  Socrates  gives  his 
own  views  as  follows:  "It  seems  to  me,"  he 
says,  "  that  the  process  of  thought  is  nothing 
190  but  a  conversation  where  the  mind  asks  and 
answers  its  own  questions,  both  affirming  and 
denying.  And  when,  whether  gradually  or  by 
sudden  impulse,  it  has  come  to  a  decision,  and 
unhesitatingly  affirms  the  same,  this  we  call  its 
opinion.  .  .  .  And  yet  if  we  do  not  admit  the 
existence  of  false  opinion  at  all,  we  shall  be  forced 
to  admit  many  absurdities.  .  .  .  Now  if  we  can 


138  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

191  find  a  way  out  of  these  and  can  be  set  free,  we 
may  then,  being  exempt  from  ridicule  ourselves, 
afford  to  talk  about  them  as  other  people's  diffi- 
culties. But  if  we  continue  to  be  perplexed  at 
every  turn,  we  must,  I  suppose,  humble  our- 
selves, and  let  the  argument  trample  over  us 
like  seasick  passengers  and  do  with  us  as  it 
may  please." 

As  a  possible  way  out  of  the  difficulty,  Socrates 
now  offers  the  following  illustration  :  ] 

191  C.  Soc.  For  the  sake,  then,  of  the  argument, 
imagine  within  our  souls  a  tablet  of  wax,34  larger 
in  one  man,  in  another  smaller,  made  of  purer 
wax  in  one,  of  less  pure  in  another,  harder  in 
some  cases,  softer  in  others,  and  then  again 
something  between  the  two. 
Theaet.  I  have  done  so. 

Soc.  Well,  let  us  say  that  this  is  a  gift  of 
Memory,  mother  of  the  Muses,  and  that  what- 
ever we  may  wish  to  remember,  whether  seen 
or  heard  or  even  imagined  by  us,  we  must 
stamp  upon  it,  applying  it  to  our  perceptions 
and  thoughts,  just  as  if  taking  an  impression 
from  a  seal  ring.  And  whatever  has  once  been 
impressed  we  remember  and  know  as  long  as  its 
image  exists  there ;  but  if  it  gets  wiped  out  or 
cannot  receive  the  impression,  we  forget  and  do 
not  know  it.  ... 

194  C.  Now  when  the  wax  in  the  soul  of  a  man  is 
deep  and  abundant  and  smooth  and  duly  tern- 


THEAETETUS.  139 

pered,  the  impressions  which  come  byway  of  the 
perceptions  and  are  impressed  upon  this  heart 
of  the  soul,  as  Homer  calls  it,  alluding  allegori- 
cally  to  its  likeness  to  wax,35  —  these,  I  say,  being 
pure  ,and  of  adequate  depth,  are  also  lasting. 
And  men  of  this  kind  have  in  the  first  place 
facility  in  learning,  and  in  the  second  retentive 
memories ;  and,  thirdly,  they  do  not  confuse  the 
impressions  which  come  from  the  perceptions, 
but  have  a  right  notion  of  them.  For  as  these 
impressions  are  clear  and  have  plenty  of  room, 
they  are  speedily  assigned  each  to  its  own  proper 
impress,  or  so  called  reality ;  and  these  men  are 
called  wise.  Do  you  not  agree  to  that? 

Theaet.     Most  assuredly  I  do. 

Soc.  But  when  the  heart  is  rough,  for  which 
the  all-wise  poet  commends  it,  or  when  it  is  un- 
clean, and  the  wax  impure  or  else  either  exces- 
sively soft  or  hard,  —  they  in  whom  it  is  soft, 
learn  easily,  but  forget;  if  it  is  hard,  they  do  the 
reverse ;  and  they  in  whom  it  is  rough  and  wild 
and  inclined  to  be  stony,  or  full  of  some  admix- 
ture of  earth  or  dung,  have  indistinct  impressions. 
Again,  when  it  is  hard  they  are  indistinct  also, 
for  then  there  is  no  depth ;  and  when  it  is  soft 
195  they  are  no  less  indistinct,  because  from  blending 
together  they  speedily  become  blurred.  And  if 
besides  all  this,  from  the  littleness  of  the  soul, 
they  are  in  want  of  room  and  all  crowded  to- 
gether, they  are  still  more  indistinct  than  the 
rest. 


140  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

Now  all  such  people  are  subject  to  false 
opinions.  When  they  see  or  hear  or  think  of 
an  object,  they  are  not  able  to  assign  each  thing 
swiftly  to  its  own  impression,  but  are  slow  about 
it ;  and  because  they  assign  wrongly  they  are  apt 
to  see  and  hear  and  think  defectively;  and  of 
these  men  again  we  say  that  they  are  dupes,  and 
ignorant  of  realities. 

Theaet.  Truer  word  was  never  spoken,  Socrates. 

Soc.  May  we  say,  then,  that  false  opinions  are 
within  us? 

Tkeaet.     Most  assuredly. 

Soc.     And  true  opinions  as  well? 

Tkeaet.     And  true  as  well. 

Soc.  May  we  then  assume  it  to  be  agreed  that 
these  two  kinds  of  opinion  do  incontestably  exist? 

Theaet.     Most  emphatically. 

Soc.  What  a  strange  and  odious  being,  of  a 
truth,  Theaetetus,  is  a  man  who  loves  to  talk ! 

Theaet.     How  so?     Why  do  you  say  this? 

Soc.  Out  of  vexation  at  my  own  dulness  and 
downright  garrulity.  For  there  is  no  other  word 
to  use  when  a  man  drags  about  his  propositions 
till  they  get  upside  down,  and  is  so  stupid  that 
he  cannot  be  convinced,  nor  yet  can  he  be  made 
to  part  with  a  single  one  of  his  pet  ideas. 

Theaet.     But  why  are  you  vexed  at  this? 

Soc.  Not  only  am  I  vexed,  but  I  am  uneasy 
as  to  how  I  shall  answer  if  some  one  asks  me : 
"  Have  you  found  out,  Socrates,  that  false  opinion 
consists  neither  in  the  relation  of  perceptions  to 


THEAETETUS.  141 

one  another,  nor  in  that  of  thought,  but  in  the 
union  of  perception  and  thought?"  "Yes,"  I 
presume  I  shall  answer,  pluming  myself,  as  if 
we  had  made  some  fine  discovery. 

Theaet.  For  my  part,  Socrates,  I  can  see  no 
reason  to  be  ashamed  of  what  has  just  been 
brought  out. 

[195  D.-I97  C.  Socrates  now  explains  that  the  pre- 
vious illustration  has  to  do  only  with  what  is 
perceived  by  the  senses,  and  that  where  some 
abstract  idea,  like  that  of  number,  is  in  question, 
another  test  of  false  and  true  opinion  must  be 
applied.] 

197  C.  Soc.  Consider  now  whether  it  be  not  possible 
to  possess  knowledge  and  yet  not  have  it  in 
hand,  just,  for  instance,  as  if  some  one  had  cap- 
tured wild -birds  —  doves  or  others  —  and  were 
keeping  them  in  a  dove-cote  which  he  had  pre- 
pared for  them  within  his  own  home.  In  one 
sense  we  might  say  that  he  always  has  them, 
seeing  they  are  owned  by  him,  might  we  not? 

Theaet.     Yes. 

Soc.  But  in  another  sense  he  has  not  a  single 
one  of  them ;  although  he  has  acquired  power 
over  them,  since  he  has  them  under  his  own  con- 
trol and  within  his  own  precincts,  to  take  and  to 
hold  whenever  he  pleases,  to  capture  if  he  likes 
and  then  let  go  again ;  all  of  which  he  may 
do  as  often  as  he  sees  fit. 


142  TALKS    WITH  ATHENIAN  YOUTHS. 

Theaet.     That  is  true. 

Soc.  Once  more,  then,  just  as  a  while  ago  we 
set  up  some  sort  of  a  waxen  figment  in  the  soul, 
so  let  us  now  fashion  in  each  mind  a  kind  of 
dove-cote  filled  with  all  manner  of  birds,  some  in 
flocks  apart  from  the  rest,  some  in  small  num- 
bers, some  singly  and  flying  among  the  others  in 
any  chance  direction. 

Theaet.     Regard  it  as  done.     What  next? 

Soc.  We  must  assume  that  in  childhood  this 
is  an  empty  receptacle,  and  that  instead  of  birds 
there  are  varieties  of  knowledge.  Now,  whatever 
kind  of  knowledge  a  man  acquires  and  shuts  up 
within  his  precincts,  we  must  say  that  he  has 
learned  or  discovered  the  thing  of  which  it  is  the 
knowledge,  and  that  just  this  is  knowing. 

Theaet.     So  be  it. 

198  D.     Soc.    Let  us,  then,  pursuing  the  figure  of  the 
chase  and  possession  of  birds,  say  that  the  chase 
is    twofold,  —  one    before    possession,  for    mere 
possession's   sake;    the   other   in   order  that  the 
possessor  may  take  and  hold  in  his  hands  what 
he  had  long  ago  acquired.     So  that  things  which 
by  study  he  had  long  ago  learned  and  come  to 
know,  he  can  once  more  gain  knowledge  of,  by 
resuming   and    holding    fast    the    knowledge    of 
each  thing  which  he  used  to  possess,  but  had 
not  uppermost  in  his  mind.   .  .  . 

199  A.     But  it  can  never  happen  that  a  man  is  igno- 
rant of  what  he  knows,  although  of  course  he 


THE  A  E  TE  TUS.  1 43 

may  get  hold  of  a  false  opinion  in  regard  to 
it.  For  he  may  have  a  knowledge,  not  of  this, 
but  of  something  else  instead,  as  when,  chasing 
them  as  they  fly,  he  by  mistake  gets  hold  of  one 
kind  of  knowledge  in  place  of  another;  when,  for 
instance,  imagining  eleven  to  be  twelve  he  takes 
the  knowledge  of  eleven  for  that  of  twelve,  the 
ring-dove  as  it  were  within  him  instead  of  the 
pigeon. 

Theaet.     Yes,  that  is  reasonable. 

Soc.  Thus,  then,  we  are  rid  of  the  notion  that 
we  do  not  know  what  we  know,  for  it  is  no 
longer  the  case  that  we  do  not  possess  what  we 
do  possess,  whether  we  deceive  ourselves  about 
it  or  not.  But  all  the  same  I  suspect  that  a  still 
greater  danger  is  taking  shape  beside  us. 

[199  C.-2IO  B.  The  difficulty  is  thus  stated:  how 
can  a  man  seek,  unless  he  knows  what  he  is  seek- 
ing? how,  in  other  words,  can  one  whose  mind 
is  filled  with  knowledge  take  anything  for  that 
which  it  is  not? 

"  Perhaps,"  Theaetetus  suggests,  "  we  did 
wrong  to  make  our  birds  stand  for  forms  of 
knowledge  only,  and  ought  to  have  imagined, 
flying  about  in  the  soul,  forms  of  ignorance  as 
well;  so  that  in  regard  to  the  same  thing  the 
pursuer  would  at  one  time  get  hold  of  a  form  of 
ignorance,  at  another  of  a  form  of  knowledge. 

"  It  is  not  easy,"  Socrates  declares,  "  to  abstain 


144  TALKS   WITH  ATHENIAN   YOUTHS. 

from  praising  you.    Nevertheless  I  must  ask  you 
to  reconsider  what  you  have  said." 

Examination  proves  the  suggestion  of  Theae- 
tetus  to  be  of  no  avail,  and  it  is  finally  agreed 
that  before  we  can  understand  false  opinion, 
knowledge  itself  must  be  understood.  A  final 
definition  is  attempted  by  Theaetetus,  namely, 
—  "true  opinion  with  the  addition  of  reason;" 
but  this  too,  after  an  elaborate  investigation,  is 
proved  untenable,  and  the  dialogue  is  in  the 
following  manner  brought  to  a  close.] 

2IO  B.  Soc.  Are  we  then,  my  friend,  still  in  tra- 
vail with  knowledge,  or  have  we  brought  forth 
everything? 

Theaet.  Yes,  and  I  declare,  by  Zeus,  that  by 
your  help  I  have  said  more  than  there  was  in  me. 

Soc.  And  yet  does  not  this  art  of  ours  de- 
clare that  all  which  has  been  brought  forth  is 
not  worth  rearing? 

Theaet.     It  does  decidedly. 

Soc.  Well,  Theaetetus,  if,  after  this  experience, 
you  should  ever  attempt  to  conceive  other 
thoughts,  they  will  be  the  better  by  reason  of 
this  present  search ;  if  not,  you  will  be  less  ex- 
acting and  more  kindly  to  your  companions,  for 
you  will  have  the  wisdom  not  to  think  you  know 
what  you  do  not  know.  Just  so  much  as  this 
and  no  more  can  my  art  accomolish ;  nor  do  I 
know  aught  of  the  things  that  are  known  by 
the  great  and  wondrous  men  who  have  been 


THEAETETUS.  145 

and  are  to-day.  This  art,  however,  both  I  and 
my  mother  have  received  from  God,  —  she 
for  women,  I  for  fair  and  noble  youths. 

And  now  I  must  present  myself  at  the  Porch 
of  the  King,36  to  answer  the  indictment  which 
Meletus  has  served  against  me.  To-morrow 
morning,  Theaetetus,  let  us  meet  here  again. 


10 


NOTES. 


NOTES   ON   CHARMIDES. 


NOTE  i,  p.  3. 

In  the  Symposium  Alcibiades  speaks  of  the  fortitude  dis- 
played by  Socrates  during  the  expedition  to  POTIDAEA  (432-429 
B.  c.),  of  his  indifference  to  cold  and  hunger,  and  of  his  coolness 
and  courage  in  battle. 

NOTE  2,  p.  3. 

The  TEMPLE  or  sacred  enclosure  here  referred  to  was,  until 
recently,  supposed  to  be  that  adjacent  to  the  King's  Porch 
(see  Note  36  on  Theaetettis],  the  text  being  altered  from  ftacriXqs 
to  pacriXiKrjs  to  suit  this  meaning. 

The  recent  discovery  of  an  inscription  mentioning  land  sacred 
to  BASILE  has  established  the  fact  that  there  was  a  goddess  or 
other  sacred  person  of  this  name,  though  whether  or  not  she 
was  identical  with  Basileia,  worshipped  as  the  personification 
of  royalty,  it  is  impossible  to  determine.  Equally  uncertain  is 
it  whether  the  word  here  translated  temple  refers  to  a  building 
or  merely  to  a  sacred  precinct, — perhaps  the  same  described 
in  the  inscription  as  lying  on  the  southern  outskirts  of  the  city, 
and  about  to  be  planted  with  two  hundred  olive-trees  and  leased 
to  a  tenant. 

NOTE  3,  p.  3. 

This  is  the  same  CHAEREPHON  of  whom  Socrates  says  in  the 
Apology :  "  You  know,  of  course,  what  sort  of  man  he  was, 
and  how  eager  in  whatever  he  undertook.  Well,  once  he  went 
to  Delphi,  and  had  the  boldness  to  consult  the  oracle  on  this 
matter,  and  to  ask  if  any  one  were  wiser  than  I."  —  Apol.  21  A. 


150  NOTES  ON  CHARMIDES. 


NOTE  4,  p.  4. 

Critias,  a  near  connection  of  Plato  and  a  poet  and  orator, 
was  perhaps  the  author  of  the  treatise  On  the  Athenian  State 
(ascribed  falsely  to  Xenophon),  which  is  the  earliest  fragment 
extant  of  Attic  prose.  He  is  here  represented  in  a  more  favour- 
able light  than  in  history,  where  he  appears  as  the  greediest 
and  most  bloodthirsty  of  the  detested  Thirty  Tyrants. 

NOTE  5,  p.  5. 

CHARMIDES,  who  was  the  maternal  uncle  of  Plato,  is  said  to 
have  shown  in  private  debate  extraordinary  fitness' for  the  career 
of  a  statesman,  but  to  have  been  prevented,  by  want  of  self-confi- 
dence, from  taking  any  part  in  the  popular  assemblies.  (Xen. 
Mem.  iii.  7.)  It  has  been  conjectured  that  Plato,  to  whose  aris- 
tocratic mind  such  abstinence  doubtless  appeared  more  than 
excusable,  introduced  him  into  this  dialogue  with  a  view  to 
removing  any  unfavourable  impression  of  him  that  may  have 
existed.  While  praising  the  youth  for  the  modesty  so  becom- 
ing to  his  years,  he  does  not  fail  to  point  out  the  real  dignity 
which  underlies  his  character  and  the  humour  which  enlivens 
it.  Charmides  was  afterward  one  of  the  Ten  who  governed  in 
Peiraeus  under  the  Thirty  Tyrants.  He  and  Critias  were  both 
killed  in  the  battle  at  Munychia,  fighting  against  Thrasybulus 
and  the  democratic  party. 

NOTE  6,  p.  5. 

That  among  the  Greeks  personal  beauty  was  measured  by  the 
form  even  more  than  by  the  face  is  clearly  shown  by  Chaere- 
phon's  subsequent  words,  even  if  it  were  not  sufficiently  proved 
by  the  excellence  of  Greek  statuary. 

Ttye  almost  reverential  admiration  excited  by  beauty  is  well 
illustrated  by  the  attitude  of  these  young  boys,  as  it  is  by  the 
talk  of  the  Trojan  graybeards  in  the  Iliad,  who,  as  they  watch 
Helen's  approach,  whisper  to  each  other,  — 


NOTES  ON  CHARM  IDES.  151 

'•  Small  blame  is  theirs,  if  both  the  Trojan  knights 
And  brazen-mailed  Achaians  have  endured 
So  long  so  many  evils  for  the  sake 
Of  that  one  woman.     She  is  wholly  like 
In  feature  to  the  deathless  goddesses." 

Iliad,  iii.  154-158  (Bryant's  translation). 

NOTE  7,  p.  6. 

The  words  here  translated  "  perfection  itself  "  soon  lost  their 
literal  signification  of  "beautiful  and  good,"  and  came  to  mean 
/'an  accomplished  gentleman."  In  this  sense  KaXbs  <aya66s  was 
frequently  applied  to  the  upper  classes,  as  in  Plato's  Republic 
(viii.  569  A.),  where  the  aristocrats  are  spoken  of  as  "those  who 
are  called  rich  and  beautiful  and  good." 

NOTE  8,  p.  6. 

Several  fragments  of  SOLON'S  poems  still  exist,  relating  chiefly 
to  his  political  and  legislative  activity.  His  intention  of  making 
a  version  in  hexameter  of  his  laws  is  mentioned  in  the  Life  of 
Solon  by  Plutarch,  who  gives  what  purport  to  be  the  first  lines 
of  this  version. 

This  allusion  to  Solon,  and  the  praise  bestowed  afterward 
upon  the  ancestors  of  Charmides,  seem  to  show  that  Plato,  who 
was  nephew  to  Charmides,  was  not  without  pride  of  family. 

NOTE  9,  p.  8. 

The  use  of  charms  as  healing  agents,  in  earlier  days  very 
prevalent  among  the  Greeks,  was,  even  in  the  fifth  century, 
by  no  means  confined  to  the  ignorant  classes.  It  is  therefore 
quite  in  keeping  with  his  assumed  character  that  Socrates  pro- 
fesses to  have  a  charm  for  the  cure  of  headache.  Only  as  the 
conversation  progresses  does  he  lay  aside  the  character  of  phy- 
sician and  healer,  and  allow  it  to  become  evident  that  he  refers 
not  to  magic  words  or  incantations,  but  to  some  subtler  charm, 
such  as  the  "songs  which  have  power  to  charm  young  men 
into  virtue"  (Laws,  671  A.),  or  the  influence  of  the  "potent 
charmer  "  who  can  "  charm  away  the  fears  of  the  child  within 


152  NOTES  ON  CHARMIDES. 

us,"  that  he   may  no  longer   "dread  death  as  a  bugbear."  — 
Phaedo,  77  E. 

NOTE  10,  p.  9. 

Herodotus  reports  a  story  that  ZAMOLXIS  acquired  his  wisdom 
from  Pythagoras,  whose  slave  he  was,  and  that  on  his  return  to 
Thrace  he  practised  the  healing  art  among  his  own  people  with 
such  success  that  he  was  honoured  as  a  god.  The  legend  that 
he  conferred  immortality  is  easily  accounted  for  by  his  having 
taught  the  doctrine  of  a  future  life. 

This  whole  passage  is  curiously  in  harmony  with  the  mind- 
healing  theory  of  to-day. 

NOTE  ii,  p.  n. 

Plato's  definition  of  TEMPERANCE,  it  need  hardly  be  said,  in- 
cludes far 'more  than  the  common  definition  of  this  virtue. 
SGX^JOO-VI/T/,  or  temperance,  —  a  quality  which  embraces  sound- 
ness of  mind,  good  sense,  moderation,  and  various  other  virtues, 
including  wisdom  itself,  —  is  defined  in  the  Republic  (iv.  442 
C.-D.)  as  the  submission  of  the  soul's  impulses  and  desires  to  the 
rule  of  reason,  inducing  thereby  harmony  within  the  soul  itself. 

In  the  Gorgias  we  are  told  that  the  temperate  man  is  one 
who  "  will  fulfil  his  duties  toward  gods  and  men,  ...  his  deal- 
ings in  relation  to  men  being  just,  toward  the  gods  reverent, 
.  .  .  and  he  will,  moreover,  be  courageous,  .  .  .  and,  being  just 
and  courageous  and  holy,  he  must  needs  be  perfectly  good,  and 
he  who  is  good  does  well  and  nobly  all  that  he  does ;  and  he 
who  does  well  fares  well  and  is  blessed  and  happy."  —  Gorg. 
507  A.-D. 

NOTE  12,  p.  12. 

ABARIS  was  a  celebrated  Thracian  sage,  who  is  said  once  to 
have  delivered  the  earth  from  a  plague,  and  about  whom  various 
fabulous  stories  are  told,  such  as  that  he  lived  without  food. 

NOTE  13,  p.  13. 

"  Shame  ill  becomes  a  beggar-man." 

Odyss.  xvii.  347. 

This  line  is  also  quotsd  in  the  Laches,  201  A. 


NOTES  ON  CHARMIDES.  153 

NOTE  14,  p.  1 6. 

PRODICUS  is  always  spoken  of  by  Plato  in  a  tone  of  good- 
natured  raillery.  In  the  Laches  he  is  said  to  be  of  all  the 
Sophists  "  the  best  at  pulling  words  to  pieces, "  and  in  the  Pro- 
tagoras an  amusing  account  is  given  of  the  man  and  his  ways. 
He  is  chiefly  known  by  the  fable  of  the  Choice  of  Herakles 
preserved  to  us  by  Xenophon  —  Mem.  ii.  i,  21. 

NOTE  15,  p.  17. 

Plato  elsewhere  alludes  to  the  hoped-for  advent  of  some  great 
and,  perhaps,  superhuman  master,  whose  judgment  on  all  sub- 
jects is  to  be  final.  In  the  Phaedo  (77  E.)  we  are  told  that 
diligent  search  must  be  made  for  a  "  potent  charmer  "  who  shall 
charm  away  the  fear  of  death,  as  in  Laches  (196  A.)  it  is  hinted 
that  he  "  who  has  a  knowledge  of  what  is  or  is  not  to  be  feared  " 
may  prove  to  be  a  god. 

NOTE  1 6,  p.  1 8. 

This  declaration  in  regard  to  self-knowledge  is  in  direct  oppo- 
sition to  the  views  expressed  by  Socrates  in  all  the  other  Pla- 
tonic dialogues.  But  formal  consistency  with  his  own  writings 
was  no  part  of  Plato's  plan,  his  aim  being  to  carry  each  separate 
point  of  view  to  its  extreme  conclusion,  without  reference  to 
the  opinions  which  he  has  elsewhere  set  forth. 

NOTE  17,  p.  18. 

When,  in  the  Cratylus,  an  attempt  is  made  to  discover  the 
origin  of  words,  the  idea  that  they  were  imposed  by  some  an- 
cient legislator  is  rejected,  for  the  reason  that  "  it  is  impossible 
to  know  things  save  either  by  being  taught  their  names  or  by 
finding  them  out ; "  whereupon  Cratylus  suggests  that  some 
power  greater  than  human  assigned  to  all  things  their  first 
names.  —  Crat.  438  B.-C. 


NOTES   ON    LYSIS. 


NOTE  i,  p.  23. 

The  ACADEMY,  where  Plato  afterward  taught,  was  about  a 
mile  north  of  the  city,  the  road  thither  being  lined  on  either  side 
with  the  tombs  of  the  most  illustrious  Athenians.  Outside  the  city 
in  a  different  direction  was  the  Lyceum,  thus  named  in  honour 
of  Apollo  Lyceus,  or  the  wolf-god,  to  whom  it  was  dedicated. 
Here  is  laid  the  scene  of  the  Theaetetus,  and  here  in  after  days 
cams  Aristotle  with  his  followers.  Spacious  gardens  were  at- 
tached to  both  these  gymnasiums,  the  stream  to  which  the 
FOUNTAIN  OF  PANOPS  gave  birth  flowing  through  that  of  the 
Lyceum.  This  fountain,  or  spring,  is  casually  mentioned  by 
Hesychius,  as  follows:  "  Panops  is  an  Attic  hero.  There  is  of 
him  a  temple  and  a  statue  and  a  spring.'1 

NOTE  2,  p.  23. 

Here,  as  in  the  Enthydemus,  CTESIPPUS  is  represented  as 
a  rollicking,  somewhat  bumptious  fellow,  full  of  high  spirits  and 
fun.  That  he  formed  one  of  the  Socratic  circle  is  evident  from 
his  presence  at  the  death  of  Socrates.  (See  Phaedo,  59,  C.) 
Nothing  further  is  known  of  the  other  characters  here  named. 

NOTE  3,  p.  25. 

As  Hermes  was  the  god  who  presided  over  the  gymnasium 
and  palaestrum,  Athenian  boys  celebrated  his  festival  (the  Her- 
maea)  in  these  resorts,  where,  after  offering  sacrifices,  they 
were  allowed  to  play  games  and  amuse  themselves  freely. 

MENEXENUS,  whose  name  occurs  just  below,  is  frequently 
mentioned  by  Plato,  one  of  whose  dialogues  bears  his  name. 
We  hear  of  him  in  the  Phaedo  as  one  of  the  friends  present  at 
the  death  of  Socrates. 


NO  TES  ON  L  YSIS.  \  5  5 


NOTE  4,  p.  25. 

In  this  room,  which  was  called  the  Apodyterium,  were  left 
the  garments  of  those  who  were  bathing  or  exercising.  The 
gymnastic  exercises  probably  took  place  in  the  large  oblong 
court,  which  was  the  principal  feature  of  the  palaestrae  or  gym- 
nasia. It  was  surrounded  by  a  colonnade,  a  double  row  of  pillars 
on  one  side  forming  a  spacious  portico,  out  of  which  led  various 
apartments  for  the  use  of  bathers. 

In  the  court  and  porticos  were  seats,  and  here  the  philosophers 
and  teachers  were  in  the  habit  of  collecting  their  listeners  around 
them. 

NOTE  5,  p.  30. 

The  plectrum  was  a  little  stick  or  wand  used  for  striking  the 
lyre. 

NOTE  6,  p.  34. 

This  seems  to  have  been  a  favourite  oath  with  Socrates,  and 
has  been  thought  to  refer  to  the  dog-headed  Anubis,  the  Egyp- 
tian Hermes. 

NOTE  7,  p.  37. 

The  care  of  a  Greek  boy  after  the  age  of  six  or  seven  devolved 
upon  an  attendant  or  pedagogue.  It  was  his  duty,  not  to  teach 
but  to  have  general  charge  of  his  young  master,  accompanying 
him  to  school  and  elsewhere,  and  often  carrying  his  books  for 
him.  Although  the  pedagogue  was  always  a  slave,  so  responsi- 
ble a  position  was  supposed  to  be  occupied  by  one,  if  not  of 
education,  at  least  of  character  and  refinement.  That  this,  how- 
ever, was  not  universally  the  case,  is  evident  from  a  passage  in 
Plutarch  :  "  Of  those  slaves  who  are  capable  they  appoint  some 
as  husbandmen,  some  as  skippers,  some  as  traders,  some  as 
stewards,  some  as  money-lenders  ;  but  whenever  they  find  some 
drunken,  greedy  fellow,  of  no  use  for  any  kind  of  work,  they 
turn  the  boys  over  to  him."  —  Plut,  de  lib.  educ.  7. 


NOTES   ON   LACHES. 

NOTE  i,  p.  41. 

Those  who  taught  the  art  of  fighting  in  armour  and  the  use  of 
weapons  were  accustomed,  after  the  manner  of  the  Sophists,  to 
give  exhibitions  of  their  skill,  with  the  view  of  attracting  pupils. 

Freedom  of  movement  with  courage  and  coolness  in  action  are 
among  the  advantages  enumerated  by  Nicias,  in  the  course  of 
the  dialogue,  as  derived  from  proficiency  in  this  kind  of  combat. 

NOTE  2,  p.  41. 

The  THUCYDIDES  here  mentioned  is  not  the  historian,  but 
the  politician  who,  being  the  rival  of  Pericles  for  supremacy  in 
the  State,  was  ostracized  in  444  B.  c.  The  father  of  Lysimachus 
was  ARISTIDES  the  Just,  whose  reputation  for  "  justice,"  was 
such  that  he  was  chosen  by  the  allies  to  assess  the  sum  which 
each  member  of  the  confederacy  of  Delos  was  to  pay  into  the 
common  treasury. 

In  Meno  (94  A.  D.)  the  insignificant  characters  of  LYSIMACHUS 
and  MELESIAS  are  held  up  as  a  proof  that  virtue  cannot  be  taught, 
since,  had  it  been  possible  to  impart  it,  like  gymnastics  or  any 
other  branch  of  education,  their  fathers  would  have  "found 
out  some  one  who  would  have  made  good  men  of  them." 

NOTE  3,  p.  44. 

At  the  time  when  the  enemies  of  Pericles  were  beginning  to 
attack  him  through  his  friends,  DAMON  and  Anaxagoras  were 
compelled  to  leave  Athens,  because,  as  former  teachers  of 
Pericles,  they  had  always  remained  on  terms  of  intimacy  with 
him. 


NOTES  ON  LACHES,  157 

NOTE  4,  p.  45. 

Socrates'  behaviour  during  this  retreat  is  thus  described  by 
Alcibiades,  rather  to  the  disadvantage  of  his  present  panegyrist: 
"  I  observed  how  far  superior  he  was  to  Laches  in  presence  of 
mind,  for  he  then  appeared  just-  as  you  have  described  him, 
stalking  about  there  as  he  does  here  to-day,  his  head  erect,  and 
casting  his  eyes  around,  and  calmly  scrutinizing  friend  and  foe. 
It  was  plain  to  see,  even  from  a  distance,  that  if  any  one  were 
to  lay  hands  upon  this  man,  he  would  stoutly  defend  himself." 
—  Symp.  221  B. 

NOTE  5,  p.  46. 

The  parallel  here  drawn  between  Athens  and  Lacedaemon 
is  hardly  supported  by  facts.  The  Lacedaemonians  were  op- 
posed to  all  changes,  in  education  as  in  other  things.  So  the 
Sophist  Hippias  (Hippias  Major,  283)  declares  that  in  spite  of 
his  numerous  visits  to  Sparta  he  has  never  made  any  money 
in  that  city  by  his  teaching,  and  adds  that  "it  is  not  lawful 
among  them  to  introduce  a  foreign  mode  of  education  "  (Ibid. 
284). 

Athens,  on  the  other  hand,  with  her  wealth  and  prosperity 
and  the  stimulus  imparted  to  the  arts  by  the  refined  taste  of 
Pericles,  became  not  only  the  commercial  capital  of  Greece,  but 
the  chief  centre  of  the  artistic  and  literary  world.  Whoever 
had  anything  to  exhibit  naturally  found  his  way  to  the  city, 
where  constant  opportunity  for  seeing  and  hearing  master- 
pieces had  produced  the  most  accomplished  critics  of  antiquity, 
and  where  at  certain  seasons  all  Greece  was  assembled  as 
audience. 

NOTE  6,  p.  47. 

LACHES  was,  with  Charoeades,  commander  of  the  twenty  ships 
sent  to  Sicily  in  427  B.  c.  by  the  Athenians  to  assist  the  Leon- 
tines  against  the  Syracusans.  It  may  have  been  in  the  course  of 
this  expedition  that  he  saw  Stesilaus  under  the  trying  circum- 
stances described  in  the  text.  Laches  was  relieved  of  his 


158  NOTES  ON  LACHES. 

command  after  a  little  more  than  a  year,  but  appears  again  in 
418  B.  c.  as  one  of  the  commanders  of  the  Athenian  contingent 
in  the  battle  of  Mantinea,  where  he  lost  his  life. 

NOTE  7,  p.  48. 

The  poverty  of  Socrates  is  pleaded  upon  a  more  important 
occasion,  when  in  suggesting  the  penalty  of  a  fine,  he  remarks  : 
"  But  in  my  case  that  will  be  neither  more  nor  less  than  im- 
prisonment, for  I  have  no  money  wherewith  to  pay  it."  — 
Apol.  37  C. 

NOTE  8,  p.  49. 

In  Greece  the  religious  element  was  never  wanting  in  any 
concern  of  daily  life.  Thus,  although  the  division  of  Attica 
into  demes  or  townships  was  originally  made  for  political  rea- 
sons solely,  each  deme  had  from  the  first  its  own  peculiar  cele- 
brations and  observances,  and  its  inhabitants  were  united  by 
religious  no  less  than  by  secular  bonds. 

NOTE  9,  p.  49. 

Compare  this  with  the  account  put  into  the  mouth  of  Alcibia- 
des  (Symp.  216  A.).  "Often,"  he  says,  "  I  have  been  brought 
to  such  a  state  by  this  Marsyas  that  it  has  seemed  to  me  im- 
possible to  live  as  I  am.  .  .  .  For  he  compels  me  to  acknowl- 
edge that  I  am  greatly  at  fault  in  that,  while  busying  myself 
about  the  interests  of  the  Athenians,  I  am  neglecting  my  own 
soul.  .  .  .  Therefore,  stopping  my  ears  as  if  to  shut  out  the  voice 
of  sirens,  I  tear  myself  away  by  force,  lest  I  grow  old  sitting  at 
his  feet." 

NOTE  10,  p.  49. 

Plutarch  quotes  Solon  as  saying  that  he  — 

"  Each  day  grew  older  and  learnt  something  new." 

The  subsequent  career  of  Nicias  proved  that,  in  his  case  at 
least,  old  age  did  not  bring  with  it  wisdom.  He  was  a  man 
whose  sterling  integrity  and  dignity  of  character  had  raised  him 
deservedly  to  posts  of  highest  honour ;  but  the  irresolution  and 


NOTES  ON  LACHES.  159 

timidity  which  grew  upon  him  with  increasing  years  cost  his 
country,  in  the  fateful  expedition  against  Syracuse,  a  shameful 
defeat,  and  sent  him  to  an  unhonoured  grave. 

NOTE  n,  p.  50. 

The  ancients  recognized  seven,  if  not  more  scales  or  kinds 
of  music,  differing  from  each  other  not  simply  in  pitch  but  in 
quality,  somewhat  as  do  the  minor  and  major  keys  of  modern 
music.  Plato  (Rep.  III.  398  C.-399  E.)  discusses  several  of 
these  varieties.  He  excludes  from  his  ideal  republic  the  Ionian 
and  Lydian,  on  the  ground  that  they  are  soft  and  adapted  to 
drinking-songs,  but  admits  the  Phrygian  and  Dorian,  since  they 
encourage  fortitude  and  endurance  in  dangers,  and  self-restraint 
and  moderation  in  good  fortune. 

"  Anon  they  move 

In  perfect  phalanx  to  the  Dorian  mood 
Of  flutes  and  soft  recorders  ;  such  as  raised 
To  height  of  noblest  temper  heroes  old 
Arming  to  battle. 

Milton,  Par.  Lost,  i.  550. 

NOTE  12,  p.  55. 

See  Note  15  on  Charmides  for  other  allusions  to  the  advent 
of  one  whose  knowledge  will  exceed  that  now  possessed  by  any 
mortal. 

NOTE  13,  p.  56. 

Plutarch  tells  us  that,  in  spite  of  his  advanced  age,  LAMACHUS, 
who,  with  Nicias,  was  a  leader  in  the  expedition  against 
Syracuse,  displayed  a  courage  and  intrepidity  worthy  of  an 
Alcibiades. 

The  citizens  of  the  deme  of  AEXONE,  to  which  Laches  be- 
longed, were  noted  for  their  abusiveness  of  speech. 

NOTE  14,  p.  58. 

NICERATUS  afterwards  perished  at  the  hands  of  the  Thirty 
Tyrants. 


NOTES   ON   EUTHYDEMUS. 

NOTE  i,  p.  63. 

CLEINIAS,  the  son  of  Axiochus,  is  not  named  in  any  other 
Platonic  dialogue,  except  casually  in  the  spurious  Axiochus, 
where  he  summons  Socrates  to  the  deathbed  of  his  father. 

CRITOBULUS,  the  son  of  Crito,  is  casually  mentioned  else- 
where. 

NOTE  2,  p.  63. 

EUTHYDEMUS  is  not  to  be  confounded  with  his  namesake  of 
Xenophon's  Memorabilia,  an  accomplished  youth  who  profited 
by  the  searching  cross-examination  of  Socrates.  That  the  man 
and  his  teachings  were  widely  known  is  evident  from  a  passage 
in  the  Cratylus,  where  his  name  follows  that  of  Protagoras. 
"You  do  not  believe  with  Euthydemus,"  Socrates  there  de- 
clares, "that  all  men  possess  all  things  equally  at  the  same 
time  and  always ;  for  in  that  case,  and  if  virtue  and  vice  were 
possessed  equally  by  all,  some  would  not,  as  is  actually  the  case, 
be  bad,  and  others  good."  —  Crat.  386  D. 

DIONYSODORUS  is  known  only  as  the  helpmeet  of  his  brother, 
although  the  ingenious  hypothesis  of  a  German  writer  (Teich- 
muller)  identifies  him  with  the  orator  Lysias,  who  is  mentioned 
in  the  Republic  as  son  of  the  aged  Cephalus  and  brother  of 
Euthydemus  and  Polemarchus. 

NOTE  3,  p.  64. 

THURII  was  an  Italian  colony  of  Athens,  which  maintained 
close  relations  with  the  mother-country. 

We  seem  to  read  here  between  the  lines  a  sly  suspicion  that 
this  exile  was  due  not  simply  to  political  reasons,  but  in  part 
to  the  odium  in  which  the  Sophists  were  held  by  their  own 
countrymen. 


NOTES  ON  EUTHYDEMUS.  l6l 


NOTE  4,  p.  64. 

This  passing  hit  at  the  practice  of  receiving  pay  for  instruction 
is  in  keeping  with  the  views  of  both  Socrates  and  Plato  upon 
the  subject. 

The  PANCRATIAST  was  a  professional  athlete  who  devoted 
himself  to  feats  of  strength,  such  as  boxing  and  wrestling,  to 
the  exclusion  of  other  gymnastic  exercises,  thus  developing  to 
an  abnormal  degree  certain  parts  of  the  body,  sometimes  at  the 
expense  of  his  general  health. 

The  inhabitants  of  ACARNANIA,  one  of  the  outlying  districts 
of  Greece,  were  noted  for  their  skill  in  the  use  of  the  sling  and 
other  arts  of  warfare,  and  were  consequently  in  great  demand 
as  mercenary  troops.  The  brothers  mentioned  in  the  text,  al- 
though they  had  evidently  attained  some  contemporary  celebrity, 
are  not  known  to  fame. 

NOTE  5,  p.  66. 

The  familiar  sign  or  daemon  seems  in  this  instance,  as  in  so 
many  others,  to  have  been  a  presentiment  which  "  made  itself 
heard,"  as  Socrates  says  (Apol.  31  D.-E.),  "  only  to  turn  me  back 
from  what  I  am  about  to  do,  but  never  to  impel  me  forward." 

NOTE  6,  p.  66. 

PAEANIA  was  the  same  deme  of  Attica  to  which  Demosthenes 
the  orator  belonged.  See  Note  2  on  Lysis  for  further  mention 
of  Ctesippus. 

NOTE  7,  p.  67. 

The  teaching  of  virtue,  which  Protagoras  proclaimed  to  be 
the  true  end  of  his  art,  is  attempted  merely  in  name  by  these  less 
respectable  Sophists,  who  seem  to  have  adopted  the  doctrines 
of  the  Eleatic  philosophers  only  to  employ  them  in  paradoxical 
quibbles. 


1 62  NOTES  ON  EUTHYDEMUS. 


NOTE  8,  p.  72. 

Aristotle,  in  his  treatise  on  Fallacies,  was  the  first  to  analyze 
and  classify  verbal  puzzles  of  this  kind. 

A  well  known  author  has  aptly  remarked  that  even  in  our 
own  day  "  a  sophism,  perfectly  analogous  in  character  to  those 
which  Plato  here  exposes  to  ridicule,  may,  in  another  case, 
easily  escape  detection  from  the  hearer,  and  even  from  the 
reasoner  himself.  People  are  constantly  misled  by  fallacies 
arising  from  the  same  word  bearing  two  senses.  ...  If  these 
fallacies  appear  so  obviously  inconclusive  that  they  can  deceive 
no  one,  the  reason  lies  not  in  the  premises  themselves,  but  in 
the  particular  conclusions  to  which  they  lead;  which  conclu- 
sions are  known  on  other  grounds  to  be  false,  and  never  to  be 
seriously  maintained  by  any  person."  —  Grote's  Plato,  vol.  i. 
p.  549. 

NOTE  9,  p.  75. 

The  wild  music  and  dances  in  honour  of  Cybele  were  en- 
couraged and  shared  by  the  CORYBANTES,  the  name  by  which 
the  priests  of  this  goddess  in  Phrygia  were  known. 

In  the  rites  of  initiation  games  and  other  frolics  played  apart, 
as  is  the  case  in  many  secret  societies  of  to-day. 

NOTE  10,  p.  79. 

The  bare  suggestion  of  wishing  a  friend's  destruction  is  sup- 
posed to  convey  with  it  an  evil  omen  which  Ctesippus  would 
fain  have  transferred  from  his  own  head  to  that  of  the  evil 
wisher. 

NOTE  n,  p.  80. 

The  Cappadocians,  Cretans,  and  Carians,  owing  to  their  un- 
enviable reputation  for  faithlessness,  were  known  as  the  three 
bad  kappas,  their  common  initial  letter;  the  Carians  espe- 
cially being  regarded  as  the  lowest  dregs  of  the  population  and 
treated  no  better  than  dogs.  The  name  of  CARIAN,  and  of 


NOTES  ON  EUTHYDEMUS.  163 

Thracian  as  well,  was  synonymous  with  that  of  slave,  probably 
because  most  of  the  Greek  slaves  came  from  those  provinces. 

The  allusion  below  is  to  the  story  of  Medea,  who  having, 
by  process  of  boiling,  turned  an  old  ram  into  a  lamb,  persuaded 
the  daughters  of  Pelias  to  cut  their  father  in  pieces  and  boil 
him,  under  the  pretence  that  he  would  thus  be  restored  to 
youth. 

Further  on  the  story  of  MARSYAS  is  referred  to,  —  the  Phry- 
gian satyr,  who,  having  picked  up  the  discarded  flute  of  Athene 
and  finding  that  of  itself  it  emitted  beautiful  sounds,  presumed 
to  challenge  Apollo  and  his  cithara.  On  being  adjudged  by  the 
Muses  the  inferior  of  Apollo,  he  was  flayed  alive  and  his  skin 
suspended  in  the  cave  where  rose  the  river  of  which  he  was 
the  god.  The  character  of  the  satyr  makes  the  use  of  his  skin 
for  a  wine-jar  peculiarly  appropriate. 

The  tale  is  doubtless  a  fabled  account  of  the  rival  claims  of 
cithara  and  flute;  the  former  being  used  in  the  worship  of 
Apollo,  the  other  in  that  of  Cybele. 

NOTE  12,  p.  81. 

PROTEUS,  the  sea-god,  who  assumed  all  sorts  of  shapes  to 
avoid  being  forced  to  disclose  his  knowledge  (Horn.  Od.  iv.  384 
foil),  is  no  unfitting  prototype  of  teachers  who  took  every  oppor- 
tunity to  throw  their  adversary  off  the  track  by  quibbles,  each 
more  absurd  than  the  last.  Whoever  wished  to  obtain  an  answer 
from  Proteus  was  obliged  to  hold  him  fast  until  he  returned 
to  his  proper  form,  a  feat  said  to  have  been  accomplished  by 
Menelaus. 

This  same  Proteus  is  portrayed  by  Euripides  (Helena)  as  king 
of  Egypt,  at  whose  court  rather  than  at  that  of  King  Priam  of 
Troy,  he  supposes  Helen  to  have  tarried. 

NOTE  13,  p.  83. 

His  own  supposed  want  of  memory  was  a  standing  joke  with 
Socrates  himself.  "  It  so  happens,"  he  declares,  *;  that  I  am  a 
forgetful  man,  and  if  any  one  talks  to  me  at  length  I  quite  lose 
track  of  the  subject."  —  Prof.  334  C. 


1 64  NOTES  ON  EUTHYDEMUS. 


NOTE  14,  p.  84. 

The  electric  lights  called  by  modern  sailors  St.  Elmo's  fire 
were  regarded  by  the  ancients  as  manifestations  of  the  Dioscuri, 
—  otherwise  known  as  the  twin  brothers  Castor  and  Pollux, — 
who  were  supposed  to  care  for  mariners  and  travellers  generally. 
Hence  Socrates,  in  danger  from  the  waves  of  discussion,  thinks 
of  the  Dioscuri,  whom  he  would  naturally  invoke  if  exposed 
to  a  tempestuous  sea.  The  expression  "triple  wave"  refers 
to  a  notion  current  among  the  Greeks  that  every  third  wave 
was  greater  than  its  two  predecessors.  "You  do  not  seem 
aware  that  when  I  have  barely  escaped  the  first  and  second 
waves,  you  are  now  bringing  upon  me  the  third  and  most  terrible 
one  of  all."  —  Rep.  472  A. 

NOTE  15,  p.  87. 

The  Lernean  HYDRA  was  slain  by  Heracles,  with  the  aid  of 
his  nephew  lolaus.  That  the  newly  arrived  monster  should 
be  described  as  bearing  down  from  the  left  makes  the  allusion 
to  Dionysodorus,  who  was  seated  at  the  left  of  Socrates,  seem 
more  pointed. 

Of  PATROCLES,  the  nephew  of  Socrates,  little  or  nothing 
further  is  known. 

NOTE  1 6,  p.  89. 

The  epithet  "ancestral"  was  given  by  the  ancients  to  the 
deity  from  whom  they  derived  their  origin.  Zeus  was  wor- 
shipped in  some  cities  as  the  ancestral  deity,  and,  according  to 
the  Scholiast  on  Aristophanes'  Clouds  (1468),  bore  this  epithet 
also  in  Athens,  though  Socrates  here  seems  to  say  that  he 
was  worshipped  in  Athens  only  as  a  god  of  the  family  and  of 
the  phratry  or  tribal  division. 

NOTE  17,  p.  92. 

These  words  are  found  in  the  opening  of  the  first  and  the 
close  of  the  third  Olympian  odes. 


NOTES  ON  EUTHYDEMUS.  165 


NOTE  1 8,  p.  92. 

We  may  detect  here  a  good-natured  rallying  of  Crito  upon  his 
well  known  love  of  acquisition. 

NOTE  19,  p.  94. 

This  description  is  supposed  to  refer  to  I  SOCRATES,  a  rhe- 
torical teacher,  political  essayist,  and  writer  of  speeches  to  be 
spoken  in  the  courts  of  justice.  In  his  youth  he  was  a  pupil  of 
Socrates,  but  thought  he  derived  little  benefit  from  the  pursuit 
of  philosophy.  He  seems,  in  Plato's  opinion,  to  have  resembled 
the  "four,"  spoken  of  in  the  Gorgias,  who,  "banded  together 
in  the  quest  of  wisdom,"  exhorted  one  another  to  "take  care 
lest,  by  becoming  over-wise,  they  should  unwittingly  work  their 
own  ruin."  —  Gorg.  487  C. 

Yet  in  the  Phaedrus  Plato  speaks  in  no  unflattering  terms  of 
Isocrates,  who  was  not  only  a  friend  of  kings  and  a  teacher 
of  teachers,  but  was  also  the  founder  of  an  important  branch 
of  literary  prose.  His  death  is  said  to  have  been  caused  by 
the  report  of  the  fatal  battle  which  made  Philip  of  Macedonia 
master  of  Greece. 

"  As  that  dishonest  victory 
At  Chaeronea,  fatal  to  liberty, 
Killed  with  report  that  old  man  eloquent." 

Milton,  Sonnet  X. 


NOTES   ON    THEAETETUS. 


NOTE  i,  p.  99. 

The  Agora  was  not  only  the  centre  of  civic  politics  and  the 
chief  place  for  the  transaction  of  business,  but  the  public  prome- 
nade where  at  certain  hours  all  the  world  was  to  be  found. 
In  the  Gorgias  (485  D.)  the  philosopher  is  censured  by  the 
worldly  Callicles  because  he  "  avoids  the  heart  of  the  city  and 
the  Agora,  where,  as  the  poet  tells  us,  men  acquire  eminence." 

EUCLID  of  Megara  must  not  be  confounded  with  the  celebrated 
mathematician  of  the  same  name.  That  he  was  an  ardent  fol- 
lower of  Socrates  is  shown  by  the  story  of  his  nightly  visits  to 
him,  in  woman's  disguise,  at  a  time  when  the  Megarians  were 
forbidden  under  pain  of  death  to  visit  Athens.  After  the  death 
of  Socrates,  he  founded  in  Megara  a  school  which  combined  the 
Eleatic  philosophy,  familiar  to  him  from  youth,  with  the  dialec- 
tics and  ethical  teachings  of  his  master. 

NOTE  2,  p.  99. 

Of  the  many  engagements  which  took  place  at  CORINTH,  that 
of  394  B.  c.,  when  the  Athenians  and  their  allies  were  severely 
defeated  by  the  Lacedaemonians,  is  probably  referred  to  in  the 
text.  A  peculiar  interest  is  lent  to  this  battle  by  the  beautiful 
monument  to  the  young  knight  Dexileos,  with  its  inscription  : 
"  One  of  the  five  horsemen  who  perished  at  Corinth  in  the 
archonship  of  Eubulides." 

NOTE  3,  p.  101. 

ERINEUM,  a  town  near  Eleusis,  on  the  road  from  Megara  to 
Athens,  was  said  to  be  the  spot  where  Pluto  descended  to  Hades 
with  Persephone.  —  Paus.  i.  38,  5. 


NOTES  ON  THEAETETUS. 


NOTE  4,  p.  101. 

Here  a  break,  occurs,  the  conversation  being  resumed  within 
the  house  of  Euclid. 

The  change  from  the  narrative  to  the  dramatic  form  has  been 
held  by  some  writers  to  determine  the  chronological  order  of 
Plato's  dialogues,  those  which  are  narrative  being  presumably 
earlier  than  the  Theaetetus,  those  which  are  dramatic  of  later 
date. 

This  dialogue  is  the  only  one  supposed  to  be  read  from  the 
notes  of  a  person  who  had  taken  no  part  in  it. 

There  is  a  passage  in  the  so-called  letters  of  Xenophon  from 
which  we  gather  that,  although  Plato  undoubtedly  borrowed 
from  the  transcript  of  Euclid,  so  much  was  added  of  his  own 
invention  that  the  original  was  no  longer  to  be  recognized. 

NOTE  5,  p.  101. 

THEODORUS  of  Cyrene,  a  former  pupil  of  Protagoras,  was  a 
celebrated  mathematician  and  geometrician,  with  whom  Plato 
is  said  to  have  studied.  He  is  not  to  be  confounded  with  the 
later  Cyrenaic  philosopher,  Theodorus  the  Atheist. 

NOTE  6,  p.  102. 

In  the  Symposium  (215-217)  Socrates  is  compared  by  Alcibi- 
ades  to  the  masks  of  Silenus  and  also  to  Marsyas  the  Satyr. 

Those  passages  and  that  of  the  text  are  the  principal  descrip- 
tions given  by  Plato  of  the  personal  appearance  of  Socrates. 

NOTE  7,  p.  103. 

The  rare  union  of  the  qualities  held  by  Plato  to  be  the  pecu- 
liar property  of  the  philosopher  is  elsewhere  spoken  of :  "  How," 
he  asks.  "  shall  we  find  a  nature  that  is  at  once  gentle  and  high- 
spirited  ?  For  gentleness  of  nature  seems  to  be  at  variance  with 
high  spirit."  —  Repub.  375  C. 


1 68  NOTES  ON  THEAETETUS. 


NOTE  8,  p.  103. 

The  only  one  of  these  "  companions  "  subsequently  mentioned 
is  Socrates  the  younger  (147  C). 

From  the  allusion  to  a  race-course  and  to  the  anointing  of 
the  youths,  the  scene  is  evidently  a  gymnasium,  probably  the 
Lyceum.  See  the  Euthyphro,  which  in  point  of  time  is  the 
sequence  of  this  dialogue.  "  What  new  thing  has  happened, 
Socrates,"  it  is  there  asked,  "  that  you  have  left  the  Lyceum 
and  come  here  to  the  Porch  of  the  King  ?  "  And  compare  the 
closing  words  of  the  Theaetetus :  "And  now  I  must  take  my 
way  to  the  Porch  of  the  King  to  answer  the  indictment  which 
Miletus  has  served  against  me." 

NOTE  9,  p.  104. 

The  rather  peremptory  mode  of  address  and  the  use  of  the 
vocative  bespeak  the  relationship  of  master  and  pupil. 

The  deme  to  which  EUPHRONIUS,  the  father  of  Theaetetus, 
belonged  was  in  Attica,  so  that  he  was  accounted  an  Athenian, 
although  his  residence  was  not  within  the  city. 

NOTE  10,  p.  108. 

The  effect  produced  by  Socrates  upon  his  hearers  is  de- 
scribed in  the  Meno,  80  A.-B. :  "  Both  in  outward  form  and  in 
your  effect  upon  others,  you  seem  to  me,  if  I  may  be  allowed 
a  jest,  very  like  the  flat  torpedo  fish,  who  renders  torpid  those 
that  come  near  and  lay  hold  of  him.  Even  so  you  seem  now 
to  have  done  to  me,  for  my  soul  and  my  speech  are  in  fact 
torpid,  so  that  I  am  not  able  to  answer  you.  Thousands  of 
times  ere  now  and  to  many  people  have  I  said  all  manner  of 
things  about  virtue,  —  and  very  well  too,  I  thought ;  but  now  I 
cannot  even  say  what  virtue  is." 

NOTE  n,  p.  no. 

The  full  meaning  of  what  Plato  calls  perception  or  sense- 
knowledge  is  better  conveyed  by  the  German  "  Wahrnehmung  " 


NOTES  ON  THEAETETUS.  169 

than  by  any  one  English  word,  and  its  comprehensiveness  is 
shown  by  a  sentence  which  occurs  later  in  the  dialogue— ~ 

"  The  senses  have  sundry  names,  —  those  of  sight,  hearing, 
smelling,  and  likewise  those  of  cold,  heat,  and  pleasures,  pains, 
desires,  and  fears."  —  Theaet.  1 56  B. 

NOTE  12,  p.  no. 

PROTAGORAS,  the  celebrated  philosopher  of  Abdera,  nick- 
named "  the  All-Wise,"  is  chiefly  known  to  us  by  the  maxim, 
"  Man  is  the  measure  of  all  things,"  of  which  the  following  is 
an  amplified  form  :  "  As  things  appear  to  me,  so  they  are  to  me ; 
as  they  appear  to  you,  so  to  you ;  for  you  are  a  man,  and  so  am 
I." —  Theaet.  152  A.  Plato,  although  he  often  misinterprets 
the  doctrines  of  Protagoras  and,  as  in  this  dialogue,  "  runs  him 
hard,"  evidently  holds  him  in  affectionate  regard.  In  his  dia- 
logue of  the  Protagoras,  he  not  only  makes  him  the  mouth- 
piece of  admirable  views  on  punishment  and  education,  but 
gives  him  a  certain  advantage  in  the  discussion. 

HERACLITUS  of  Ephesus,  sometimes  called  the  "weeping 
philosopher,"  who  maintained  the  doctrine  of  universal  motion, 
should  not  be  held  responsible  for  the  loose  and  sceptical  views 
which  his  followers  adopted  after  his  death,  and  which  are 
treated  with  such  contempt  by  Theodorus  (180  A.-B.). 

EMPEDOCLES  of  Agrigentum,  whom  Aristotle  calls  a  "  Ho- 
meric spirit."  was  a  poet  and  statesman  as  well  as  philosopher. 
A  disciple  of  Parmenides,  he  soon  departed  from  the  Eleatic 
doctrine  of  unity  and  fixedness,  and  taught  that  fire,  air,  water, 
and  earth  are  the  fundamental  principles  of  all  things. 

NOTE  13,  p.  in. 

Eurip.  Hippolytus,  612  :  "  My  tongue  has  sworn,  but  my  mind 
is  unsworn."  This  passage  is  referred  to  several  times  by  Plato, 
and  also  by  Aristophanes  and  Cicero. 

NOTE  14,  p.  in. 

The  personification  of  Divine  Philosophy  in  IRIS  may  have 
been  suggested  by  the  parentage  of  this  messenger  of  the  gods. 


I/O  NOTES  ON  THEAETETUS. 

"  Electra,  the  daughter  of  deep-flowing  ocean,  did  Thaumas 
espouse,  and  to  Iris,  swift-footed,  gave  birth."  —  Hes.  Theog 
265. 

"  By  wondering  (6avpa£fiv)"  says  Aristotle,  "  men  now  as 
in  olden  days  begin  the  study  of  philosophy ; "  and  he  stated 
further  that  philosophy  ceases  with  the  cessation  of  wonder.  — 
Metaph.  I.  A  similar  doctrine  was  taught  by  Democritus  and 
by  the  Stoics. 

NOTE  15,  p.  112. 

Those  who  were  initiated  into  the  sacred  mysteries  were  be- 
lieved to  possess  truths  handed  down  by  tradition  from  dis- 
tant ages.  Plato,  therefore,  calls  such  as  content  themselves 
with  "  that  which  lies  nearest  them  "  and  is  perceived  by  the 
senses  the  "  uninitiated."  These  are  the  materialists  described 
in  the  Sophist  (246  A.-B.)  as  men  who  "  maintain  that  only 
what  may  be  touched  and  handled  has  real  existence,  because 
they  define  soul  and  body  as  one  and  the  same ;  and  they  will 
not  hear  of  anything  different,  but  if  any  one  asserts  that  aught 
can  exist  without  a  body  they  utterly  despise  him." 

In  comparison  with  these,  Protagoras  is  an  idealist.  He  held 
that,  since  all  things  are  relative,  it  can  hardly  be  said  that  a 
thing  is,  but  rather  that  it  is  ever  coming  into  being  through  its 
relation  to  some  other  thing.  The  same,  he  maintained,  is  true 
of  qualities :  they  are  the  product  of  two  kinds  of  motion,  one  of 
which  is  active  and  proceeds  from  the  subject,  while  the  other 
is  passive  and  proceeds  from  the  object  of  perception.  Thus 
colour  may  be  explained  as  the  product  of  motion,  proceeding 
on  the  one  hand  from  the  eye,  and  on  the  other  from  the  object 
which  appears  to  possess  colour.  By  some  such  hidden  process 
is  that  which  we  call  "  appearance  "  caused. 

NOTE  16,  p.  119. 

From  this  passage  and  that  of  162  A.,  it  may  be  inferred  that 
the  Lacedaemonians  allowed  none  to  enter  their  gymnasiums 
who  would  not  take  part  in  the  exercises. 

SCIRON  was  a  robber,  who,  as  the  story  goes,  compelled  the 


NOTES  ON  THEAETETUS.  \>]\ 

travellers  whom  he  had  robbed  to  wash  his  feet,  and  then  hurled 
them  down  from  the  top  of  a  high  rock  which  stood  near  the 
frontier  of  Megara.  He  met  his  reward  at  the  hands  of  Theseus ; 
but,  the  earth  refusing  to  receive  him,  he  was  suspended  mid- 
air, and  finally  changed  into  a  rock  in  commemoration  of  his 
past  misdeeds. 

ANTAEUS,  the  Lydian  giant,  son  of  Poseidon  and  Earth, 
compelled  all  whom  he  met  to  wrestle  with  him,  gaining,  himself, 
fresh  strength  from  every  contact  with  Earth,  his  mother.  It  was 
only  by  lifting  him  from  the  ground  that  Heracles  was  finally 
able  to  vanquish  and  slay  him. 

NOTE  17,  p.  121. 

The  image  of  the  old  philosopher  suddenly  raising  up  his 
head  and  as  suddenly  disappearing  again  may  have  been  sug- 
gested by  "  Charon's  steps,"  a  flight  of  stairs  used  in  the  theatre 
for  introducing  ghosts  upon  the  scene. 

A  covert  sarcasm  may  here  be  intended  on  the  well  known 
unwillingness  of  Protagoras  to  listen  to  the  statements  made 
by  his  opponents. 

NOTE  18,  p.  121. 

It  is  interesting  to  compare  this  remark  with  the  statement 
of  Socrates  that  "at  the  age  of  more  than  seventy  years,  I 
am  now  for  the  first  time  appearing  before  a  court  of  justice, 
so  that  I  am  an  utter  stranger  to  the  manner  of  speaking  there." 
—  ApoL  17  D. 

See  also  the  Gorgias  (486  B.),  where  Callicles  asserts  that 
Socrates,  if  made  to  appear  before  a  court,  would  stand  "  dizzy 
and  gaping,  and  with  never  a  word  to  say." 

NOTE  19,  p.  122. 

The  rule  that  nothing  outside  of  the  subject-matter  might  be 
touched  upon  was  not  strictly  observed,  as  appears  from  an  allu- 
sion in  the  Apology  to  the  defendant  turning  suppliant  (ApoL 

34  C.). 

The  expression  rendered,  "  the  so-called  affidavits,"  refers  to 
one  of  the  first  steps  in  an  Athenian  legal  procedure,  wherein 


1/2  NOTES  ON  THEAETETUS. 

each  party  in  a  suit  made  oath  to   the  justice  of  his  cause. 
Many  scholars  regard  this  as  an  interpolation. 

The  "master"  just  below  mentioned  is  probably  the  Demus, 
or  sovereign  people,  represented  in  the  court  by  the  presiding 
officer.  The  personification  of  the  people  was  familiar  to  the 
Athenians  of  Plato's  time  from  various  examples,  notably  that  in 
the  Knights  of  Aristophanes.  From  the  significant  language 
here  used,  it  would  seem  that  Plato  had  some  particular  case 
in  mind,  very  probably  the  trial  of  Socrates. 

The  "clepsydra,"  or  water-clock,  was  always  placed  in  full 
view  of  the  orator.  It  consisted  of  a  globe  with  a  short  neck 
for  the  introduction  of  the  water,  small  holes  being  pierced 
on  the  bottom  for  its  escape.  As  the  length  of  time  necessary 
for  this  process  varied  with  the  temperature,  the  gauge  was 
far  from  a  perfect  one. 

If  this  dialogue  was  written  or  finished  after  Plato's  return 
from  Sicily,  it  is  possible  that  the  whole  passage  may  refer  to  the 
tyrant  Dionysius  and  his  habit  of  presiding  in  court,  in  which 
case  the  description  of  the  sycophant  which  follows  may  apply 
to  the  historian  Philistius,  whose  machinations  nearly  caused 
Plato's  destruction.  But  as  the  dialogue  is  supposed  to  have 
occurred  just  before  the  trial  of  Socrates  (see  the  closing  sen- 
tence), it  is  more  natural  to  see  here  a  prophetic  allusion  to 
that  event. 

NOTE  20,  p.  123. 

The  first  recorded  victory  in  a  contest  of  tragedy  was  won 
by  Thespis  in  536.  From  this  time  dramatic  and  dithyrambic 
choral  performances  held  in  honour  of  the  god  Dionysus  formed 
a  regular  part  of  the  two  great  yearly  festivals,  and  always 
bore  the  character  of  a  contest.  The  chief  cost,  that  of  the 
choruses,  was  defrayed  by  some  wealthy  citizens  who,  under  the 
title  of  choragus,  received  and  dedicated  the  crown  or  the  prize, 
usually  a  tripod,  which  was  awarded  by  the  judges  to  the  vic- 
torious chorus. 

NOTE  21,  p.  124. 

Here  Plato  may  have  had  in  mind  the  contemptible  action 
of  the  rhetorician  Lysias,  in  bringing  up  at  the  trial  of  the 


NOTES  ON  THEAETETUS.  173 

younger  Alcibiades  all  the  sins  of  the  father,  and  laying  them 
upon  the  son. 

NOTE  22,  p.  124. 

A  passage  in  the  Republic  (500  B.-C.)  emphasizes  the  indif- 
ference of  the  true  philosopher  to  worldly  considerations  and 
interests.  "Is  not,"  it  is  asked,  "the  bitterness  which  many 
feel  toward  philosophy  due  to  the  outsiders  who,  like  disorderly 
revellers,  enter  in  there  where  they  do  not  belong,  abusing  and 
wrangling  with  each  other,  and  forever  talking  of  people,  a  theme 
which  least  of  all  befits  philosophy  ?  .  .  .  For  he  whose  thoughts 
are  truly  fixed  upon  realities  has  not  the  leisure  to  look  down- 
wards upon  the  affairs  of  men,  nor  in  the  struggle  against  them 
to  become  filled  with  envy  and  ill-will ;  but,  from  beholding  and 
contemplating  principles  which  are  fixed  and  immovable  and 
which  neither  injure  nor  are  injured  by  each  other  but  act 
always  in  accordance  with  reason  and  order,  he  imitates  these 
and,  so  far  as  he  is  able,  grows  into  their  likeness." 

After  the  usual  fashion  of  Plato,  the  quotation  from  Pindar 
given  a  few  lines  above  is  freely  interwoven  into  his  text. 

NOTE  23,  p.  124. 

Chaucer,  in  "The  Milleres  Tale,"  3458-60,  uses  a  similar 
illustration. 

"He  walked  in  the  feldes  for  to  prie 
Upon  the  starres,  what  ther  sholde  befalle 
Til  he  was  in  a  marie-pit  y-falle." 

THALES,  one  of  the  seven  wise  men,  a  native  of  Miletus  in 
Ionia,  is  one  of  those  to  whom  the  maxim  written  on  the  Temple 
of  Apollo  at  Delphi,  "  Know  thyself,"  has  been  ascribed.  He 
was  not  only  the  earliest  of  the  Greek  philosophers  (born  prob- 
ably 624  B.  c.),  but  the  founder  also  of  geometry  and  astron- 
omy, and  is  thought  to  have  predicted  the  eclipse  of  the  sun 
which  occurred  in  585  B.  c.  According  to  his  theory  of  the  uni- 
verse, water  was  the  origin  of  all  things  and  the  life-giving 
element. 

It  has  been  conjectured  that  the  "  Thracian  handmaid  "  rep- 
resents Antisthenes,  the  founder  or  precursor  of  the  Cynics, 


1/4  NOTES   ON  THEAETETUS. 

whose  contempt  of  culture,  and  even  of  knowledge,  was  in 
Plato's  eyes  "slavish."  The  epithets  applied  to  the  handmaid 
are  not  ill  suited  to  this  philosopher,  whose  reputation  was  that 
of  a  gay  and  charming  companion. 

NOTE  24,  p.  127. 

An  Athenian  dramatist  of  the  fourth  century  seems  to  have 
borrowed  from  this  passage,  in  the  lines  of  which  the  following 
is  a  literal  translation :  — 

"  Family  is  my  despair.  If  you  love  me,  mother,  speak  not 
about  each  man's  family.  They  who  have  nothing  good  in  their 
own  nature  straightway  fly  to  the  tombs,  and  begin  to  count 
over  the  number  of  their  ancestors.  But  they  gain  naught  there- 
by, nor  can  you  mention  one  who  has  no  ancestors ;  how  else, 
indeed,  were  he  born?"  —  Menander,  Fragm.  533. 

If  Plato's  real  opinion  is  expressed  in  the  words  of  the  text, 
his  well  known  bias  in  favour  of  aristocracy  would  seem  to  have 
proceeded  not  from  belief  in  the  intrinsic  value  of  good  birth, 
but  from  a  conviction  that  it  is  true  of  inherited  position  as  it  is 
of  inherited  fortune  that  they  who  have  received  it  "  do  not  care 
over-much  for  it,"  while  "  they  who  have  made  their  own  for- 
tune (or  position)  value  it  as  their  own  work,  besides  valuing  it 
for  its  uses,  as  the  others  do."  {Repub.  330  C.)  He  accepted 
aristocracy  in  its  literal  meaning,  —  the  rule  of  the  best,  that 
"  small  remnant  of  true  philosophers  "  (Repub.  496  B.),  whose 
leadership  if  followed  would  ensure  the  fulfilment  of  justice,  and 
who  alone  are  capable  of  mastering  political  science,  of  all 
sciences  the  most  difficult  (see  Laws,  864  A.). 

It  is  reported  of  Socrates  that,  on  hearing  Alcibiades  boast 
of  his  lands  and  possessions,  he  showed  the  youth  a  map  of  the 
world,  bidding  him  point  them  out  upon  it. 

NOTE  25,  p.  128. 

The  same  idea  is  found  in  the  allegory  of  the  Cave  (Repub. 
515  £.-516  A.).  "  If  any  one  were  to  draw  him  by  force  up  the 
steep  narrow  way,  and  not  let  go  of  him  till  he  had  drawn  him 


NOTES  ON  THEAETETUS.  175 

into  the  sunlight,  would  he  not  suffer  and  be  in  distress ;  and 
after  he  had  come  to  the  light,  and  his  eyes  were  full  of  it, 
would  he  not  be  unable  to  behold  any  one  of  those  things  that 
are  called  truth?  " 

NOTE  26,  p.  128. 

The  cloak  was  a  large  oblong  cloth  first  thrown  over  the  left 
shoulder  and  passed  round  the  back  to  the  right  side,  and  then 
over  the  right  arm,  to  be  finally  brought  again  over  the  left 
shoulder.  According  to  a  man's  skill  or  awkwardness  in  wear- 
ing this  garment  he  was  held  to  be  a  gentleman  or  a  boor. 

As  it  was  customary  for  travellers  to  carry  their  own  bedding, 
it  formed  a  chief  part  of  the  equipment  needed  for  a  journey, 
and  thus  the  term  just  above  translated  by  this  word  came  to 
be  applied  to  luggage  in  general. 

In  contrast  to  the  "flattering  speech"  of  the  slave,  see  the 
description  in  Laches  (188  D.)  of  the  "harmonious  language," 
the  use  of  which  marks  the  true  freeman. 

NOTE  27,  p.  128. 

Many  passages  in  Plato's  writings,  like  that  of  the  text,  de- 
scribe holiness  as  perfected  only  through  union  with  the  divine. 

"In  their  search  to  discover  within  themselves  the  nature 
of  God  they  have  the  less  difficulty,  because  they  have  been 
compelled  to  gaze  steadfastly  upon  him;  thus  their  memory 
clings  to  him,  and  they  become  inspired,  and  derive  his  char- 
acter and  his  ways,  so  far  as  it  is  possible  for  man  to  partake 
of  the  nature  of  God.  —  Phaedrus,  253  A. 

"  Rightly  does  the  mind  of  the  philosopher  alone  have  wings ; 
for  he,  so  far  as  may  be,  keeps  ever  before  him  the  memory  of 
those  things  in  virtue  of  which  even  God  himself  is  divine. 
Therefore  a  man  who  uses  aright  such  memories  as  these  is  for- 
ever being  initiated  into  perfect  mysteries,  and  alone  attains  the 
mystery  of  perfection."  —Phaedrus,  249  C. 

"  By  constant  intercourse  with  the  steadfast  and  the  divine 
he  himself  becomes  divine  and  steadfast,  so  far  as  is  possible 
to  man."  —  Repub.  500  D. 


[76  NOTES  ON   THEAETETUS. 

NOTE  28,  p.  129. 

"  He  who  is  really  fighting  for  the  right,"  Socrates  elsewhere 
declares,  "  must,  if  he  would  be  safe  even  for  a  short  time,  lead 
a  private  life,  not  a  public  one."  —  Apol.  32  A. 

The  words  "  cumbering  the  ground,"  cited  also  in  the  Apology 
(28  D.),  are  carelessly  quoted  from  the  speech  of  Achilles  to 
Thetis  his  mother.  —  Horn.  //.  18,  104. 

NOTE  29,  p.  130. 

See  the  Phaedo,  where  the  future  of  a  spiritual  nature  is 
contrasted  with  that  of  an  earthly  one. 

"  When  then  the  soul  departs  in  this  state,  she  goes  to  the 
world  which  is  invisible  like  herself,  to  the  world  divine  and 
immortal  and  full  of  thought ;  there,  set  free  from  error,  folly, 
fears,  and  the  fierce  passions  and  other  ills  of  humanity,  her  lot 
is  a  happy  one  indeed.  .  .  .  But  if  on  her  release  she  be  found 
unclean  and  polluted  by  her  intercourse  with  the  body  ...  it 
cannot  be  supposed  that  she  will  depart  hence  pure  and  uncon- 
taminated.  .  .  .  Rather  will  she  become  again  entangled  in  that 
bodily  form  which,  by  reason  of  companionship  and  intercourse 
and  constant  solicitude  for  the  body,  has  become  an  essential 
part  of  her  nature"  (Phaedo,  81  A.-C.).  This  passage  is  imi- 
tated by  Milton  in  the  Comus,  467  ff. : 

"  The  soul  grows  clotted  by  contagion, 
Imbodies  and  imbrutes,  till  she  quite  lose 
The  divine  property  of  her  first  being  ; 
Such  are  those  thick  and  gloomy  shadows  damp, 
Oft  seen  in  charnel  vaults  and  sepulchres." 

NOTE  30,  p.  132. 

This  attack  upon  the  followers  of  Heraclitus  is  very  appro- 
priately put  into  the  mouth  of  Theodorus,  to  whom,  as  a  geome- 
trician, their  vague  and  ambiguous  statements  must  have  been 
peculiarly  distasteful.  Heraclitus  himself  derived  his  title,  "  the 
obscure,"  in  great  part  from  the  enigmatical  brevity  of  his  sen- 
tences, but  his  disciples  appear  in  this  respect  to  have  gone 
beyond  their  master. 


NOTES  ON  THEAETETUS.  177 

NOTE  31,  p.  134. 

In  direct  opposition  to  the  Heraclitean  theory  was  the  doc- 
trine of  PARMENIDES  that  existence  is  One  and  unchangeable 
and  eternal,  and  that  change  and  motion  are  but  appearances. 
It  is  in  allusion  to  his  words  (quoted  180  E.),  —  "All  Being  is 
One  and  self-contained,"  —  that  he  is  here  called  "the  One." 
The  great  chief  of  the  Eleatic  school  is  elsewhere  described  at 
the  age  of  sixty-five  as  "  very  old  and  gray-haired,  but  of  noble 
appearance."  —  Parmenides,  127  B. 

MELISSUS  of  Samos,  a  statesman  and  warrior  as  well  as  phi- 
losopher, was  a  follower  of  Parmenides,  and  a  slightly  younger 
contemporary  of  the  Eleatic  Zeno. 

None  of  the  followers  of  Parmenides  seem  to  have  preserved 
his  doctrines  without  serious  changes.  From  maintaining  all 
knowledge  derived  from  the  senses  to  be  illusory,  they  finally 
tended  toward  complete  negation  and  scepticism. 

NOTE  32,  p.  135. 

The  image  suggests  that  just  as  the  warriors  in  the  Wooden 
Horse  at  Troy,  although  contained  in  the  same  image,  were 
complete  and  independent  persons,  so  our  faculties  may  be  dis- 
tinct entities,  not  parts  of  one  soul,  although  contained  in  the 
same  human  form. 

NOTE  33,  p.  136. 

It   has    been   well    remarked,    "  These  ideas   must  not  be 

measured  by  their  familiarity  to  ourselves.  To  the  Greek  mind 

they  were  a  revelation  and  a  triumphant  vindication  of  mind 
over  sense."  —  Jowett. 

NOTE  34,  p.  138. 

The  tablet  here  spoken  of  is  not  a  waxen  writing-tablet,  but  a 
block  of  wax  used  for  sealing.  Locke  employs  a  similar  illus- 
tration in  describing  the  different  kinds  of  memory. 

"  If  the  organs  or  faculties  of  perception,  like  wax  overhard- 
ened  with  cold,  will  not  receive  the  impression,  ...  or,  like  wax 

12 


178  NOTES  ON  THEAETETUS. 

01  a  temper  too  soft,  will  not  hold  it  when  well  imprinted  ;  or 
else,  supposing  the  wax  of  a  temper  fit,  but  the  seal  not  applied 
with  sufficient  force  to  make  a  clear  impression,  —  in  any  of 
these  cases  the  print  left  by  the  seal  will  be  obscure.1'  —  Human 
Understanding,  29,  §  3. 

NOTE  35,  p.  139. 

The  likeness  in  Greek  between  Krjpos  (wax)  and  neap  (heart) 
is  the  occasion  of  a  pun  which  cannot  be  rendered  in  English. 
The  epithet  "  all-wise  poet,"  which  follows  in  the  next  speech  of 
Socrates,  refers,  of  course,  not  to  Homer's  mistaken  praise  of 
the  heart's  shagginess,  but  to  his  knowledge  of  the  human  heart 
itself.  —  //.  2,  851  ;  1 6,  554. 

NOTE  36,  p.  145. 

The  duties  which  devolved  upon  the  ancient  kings  were  after- 
wards divided  between  nine  archons.  One  of  these  officers 
represented  the  king  in  his  capacity  of  high  priest,  and  at  the 
PORCH  OF  THE  KING  tried  cases  of  homicide  and  other  acts 
of  impiety.  It  was  here,  therefore,  that  Meletus  and  Anytus 
brought  their  indictment  of  Socrates. 

These  porticos  or  colonnades,  of  which  there  were  many  in 
Athens,  were  often  attached  to  temples  or  public  buildings, 
and  formed  a  convenient  protection  from  the  weather,  besides 
being  a  pleasant  lounging-place  at  all  seasons.  They  were  fre- 
quently ornamented  with  paintings  commemorating  mythical 
and  historical  events  relating  to  the  history  of  Athens. 


THE 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 
BERKELEY 

Return  to  desk  from  which  borrowed. 
This  book  is  DUEton  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


REC'D  LD 
OCT  2  5  1956 


MAY  ^  *?  19Si 


JUL    41 


LIBRARY  USE 

NOV-5  195 

REC'D  L 

NGV    5 

24May'59MJ 


Cl3May'63DW 


LD  21-100m-9,'48(B399sl6)476 


LD 


\PR  2 


REC'D  LD 

T 1  6*63  -3  PM 


JAN  28  2011 


